


nightbloom

by ashensunsets



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avengers Tower, But mostly angst, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Developing Relationship, Domestic Avengers, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, FrostIron - Freeform, Guilt, Jealousy, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Recovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Torture, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Relationships, nothing graphic is shown but it is hinted at, rape/non-con stems from the nature of loki and thanos's relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-01-05 05:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 55,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18359609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashensunsets/pseuds/ashensunsets
Summary: After spending over a year in Thanos's clutches, Loki and Tony break free and return to earth, recovering from their acquired injuries as they attempt to reestablish the parameters of their relationship. But Loki's recovery is slow-going, his relationship with Tony is ever-changing, and freedom is a difficult concept to grasp, what with the threat of Thanos's return looming over their heads.. . ."Loki’s always known what is means to be alone amongst a crowd of people. But he’s never known what it means to be together alone amongst a crowd. He’s never known a connection so gut-wrenching that it could leave him oblivious to all his other surroundings, his senses, for all their worth, muddled like a diluted solution. He’s never been so enamoured with a person to find everything else melting away to nothing as he falls deeper and deeper until it becomes as simple, as so wonderfully simple, as one step forward, one step back."





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> You guys! I have been writing this fic for nearly six months now, and I am finally posting it. Still not done but I'm close enough to the end to feel comfortable posting so happy times.  
> Anyway, I'm really excited about this fic. I have put so much effort and time into it, and I'm going to continue to (cuz I ain't finished). As of right now, it's my longest story (with around 50k as of right now), and I am absolutely in love with the plot. So let me know what you think.

It's a bed.

A soft, queen-sized bed covered in olive drapes and emerald pillows. It sits at the center of the room, a grounding force that immediately seeks out your attention amidst the remaining furniture. Like the bed, the room is a flourish of various shades of green, darting haphazardly along the spectrum that by all means should pulse chaotic but actually reads like familiar, like home.

Loki purses his lips. His keeps his hands at his sides, clenched and taut and sweaty, and doesn't say anything.

Beside him, Anthony clears his throat. He stares at the back wall, at the windows, at the bathroom, anywhere but at Loki. "You said you liked green", he murmurs quietly.

An invasive, scalding blue taints his cheeks. With a jerk, his hair falls in his face and conceals the blush like a scolded child. He crosses his arms over his chest and huffs.

Anthony makes a noise in his throat, then turns to leave. "I'll, uh, I'm just gonna go now." He crosses the far-too-large room, pausing only when he gets to the doorframe. His fingers grip the wooden purchase, the knuckles gone white, and he opens his mouth to say something.  
Loki, at last, turns and faces him. He knows what he must look like; pale and gaunt and sickly and repulsive. It's not the look of a Prince, let alone the man who once strived to rule this miserable speck of dirt. But for all that, every time Loki looks into Anthony's eyes, he finds not pity or disgust or hatred but tenderness and longing and hope. It's almost scary just how much lies in wait within those weary auburns.

"Yes", Loki says, and he does not recognize his voice.

Anthony lingers within the door. He holds Loki's eye, not as a matter of "Who Will Look Away First?" but a matter of "How Long Can I Keep You Here, This Close To Me?" He draws his nails, chipped and bloodied, against the wooden frame and inhales. He bites his lip, blinks, and Loki thinks,  _You could stay._

_Here. With me._

But Anthony doesn't hear that, so he just nods and, finally, looks away. Loki does the same, and the room's lighter yet also so very heavy.

"If you need anything, just scream at the ceiling", Anthony eventually says. "'Night." And with that, he nods, turns, and leaves for his own quarters.

"Good night", Loki call out after him. He turns and takes a seat on his bed.

It's softer than it looks. Warmer, too. A bit jolting compared to the past few months but he adjusted before, and he supposes he can do it again.

He crawls underneath his blankets. He's pulling it up and resting it along his body when his fingers graze his chest and the Led Zepplin t-shirt clinging to it. The shirt, it's not his; it's Anthony's. Loki doesn't have any clothes, or much of anything, on Midgard, so Anthony offered to lend him some. He'd been adamant about buying a new wardrobe entirely, but Loki had insisted. He rolls onto his side, curls underneath the blankets, and tugs the collar of the shirt to his nose. He breathes in, and it's nothing but aftershave, motor oil, electricity, and just Anthony.

Loki closes his eyes. He lets the weariness from, well, everything wash over and tug him down. As he's falling, he bunches the collar in his hand and dreams of cascading water, big, frantic eyes, and desperate, naked hands.

There've been worse nights.


	2. 2

Those first few days, they don't let Loki leave his floor.

It's not safe. Harboring a ex-terrorist, no matter how reformed or broken, is sure to bring drastic repercussions that even the Mighty Avengers couldn't talk themselves out of. If not for Anthony and Thor's insistence, Loki probably would have been shackled and Bifrosted to Asgard the moment he was deemed healthy enough for transport. But Anthony and Thor have always been stubborn. As individuals, they could level entire kingdoms with their will and strength. Together, well, together, they could move Loki into Avenger Tower.

Of course, there's still the glaring fact that the "trust" applies only to his floor, but it's fine. Not like he has anywhere to go anyway.

Loki huffs, tosses his copy of Mockingjay across the room, and drags a hand over his face. His foot is tapping irritably against the floor, bringing to the room a tick-tick-ticking sound that, admittedly, is worse than the silence.

"Mr. Laufeyson", J.A.R.V.I.S. beckons, startling Loki from his seat. "Do you require aid?"  
"Norns", Loki hisses as he gathers himself from the floor. "Must you be so intrusive?"

"You seem agitated. Would you like for me to contact Mr. Stark?"

"No!" The word shoots out like a soundwave, lingering long after it's been spoken; it bounces off the walls of the room and slams back into his ears; there's no denying the distraught lacing that single word's syllables, no denying the panic that ensues at the just the thought of asking Anthony for help.

Loki brushes his hair out of his face. He crawls to a stand, then walks to the wall of windows stretching over the city.

They're one-sided, Tony had assured him. He could look out them all he wanted with little worry of being seen. Their elder, Fury, says it's for the best, lest any prying eyes place his face and decide to turn to vigilante justice; It's a reasonable precaution, and Loki knows most of the Team shares this sentiment. But he thinks of Anthony and, for all the walls he's put up around him, he can't help but wonder if there was more weight to the decision than merely keeping his identity a secret.

"Sir has been taking part in several meetings to grant you more access to the Tower", J.A.R.V.I.S. tells him; he sounds closer.  _A ventriloquist act_ , Loki deduces tiredly.

"They'll never go for it", he says, pinching his lower lip between his fingers.

"I think you'd be quite surprised at what Sir can accomplish when he sets his mind to something."

"Hm." Turning from the window, Loki approaches the refrigerator and tosses open its door. WIthin, there's a vast array of fine wines, out-of-season foods, and peculiar ice cream flavors. One such flavor is Cookie Dough Ice Cream; it was something he'd grown to enjoy during his many "trips" to Midgard, and, when his time amongst the cosmos had grown weary, he'd think of the dessert and feel not quite as bad. Loki doesn't remember telling Anthony any of this, but he's supposes there's a lot of things he doesn't remember telling him.

"Don't think about it", he murmurs to himself. He grabs the tub of ice cream from the shelf. With a twist of his fingers, the door slams shut, a soft clank echoing throughout the room. It's a simple spell, one that, on a normal day, he could perform with barely a thought. But his magic's severely depleted, and even a simple Command Spell has proven enough to sap a day's worth of energy. As it stands, he can barely manage the walk across the room without collapsing onto one of the bean bag chairs. It's infuriating to have gone from one of the most powerful mages in the Nine Realms to a being that nearly faints at Commands. The doctor, Banner, says it's temporary, that his strength will return in due time and that using his powers will only prolong the process. 'Course, what does he know? A simple, wretched Midgardian as himself, he couldn't even begin to comprehend the genetic makeup of an otherworldly being, much less a-

"Aah!" Loki doubles forward, an arm wrapped around his middle, and hisses. He's seeing spots, and it feels like someone's taken a blade to his core. He falls across his seat, clenching his fingers around the sifting material, and grits his teeth.

"Mr. Laufeyson", J.A.R.V.I.S. questions. If Loki weren't too busy trying to put out the fire within his stomach, he'd wonder why the voice sounded concerned. "Are your injuries troubling you?"

"What could possibly give you that idea", he bites out in return. Not even a moment later, something fans the coals of the fire, licking across every nerve in his body. Curling into a ball, he chokes down a cry and wills his spasming magic to remain contained; on top of everything else, the last thing he needs is an accident.

"Dr. Banner is just three floors away", J.A.R.V.I.S. informs him, sounding farther away than before. "I could-"

"I'm fine." Loki presses three tender fingers against his abdomen, only to recoil at the spark of pain this prompts. "It's just a little, just some tugging", he pants as he settles into the fetal position. "It'll pass."  
"Would you like for me to call Mr. Stark?"  
"No."  
"I called for him two minutes ago. He will arrive shortly."  
"You are an awful, despicable-"

"Loki!"

Loki curses, then rolls as much as his body will allow until he can catch sight of Anthony kicking his door open. As he takes note of the sheen of sweat on Loki's forehead and the tight set of his teeth, the barely-concealed panic within Anthony's eyes fades, only to be replaced with unabashed worry. Anthony crosses the room, murmuring something as he taps his ear, and crouches beside Loki on the bean bag chair.

At first, he doesn't say anything. Just sits there, waiting and listening as Loki struggles to regain his breathing. Once he's certain he's not dying, Anthony rolls onto his ass, drops his arms over his knees, and lets out an airless chuckle. Loki just raises his eyebrows.

"I guess these things do have a purpose", Anthony says with a pointed look.

Loki scowls. "I'd much rather prefer a seat that doesn't move every time I do", he murmurs. Cautiously, he pushes himself into a seated position. The movement takes way more effort than it should, leaving him, once more, a panting, sweating mess. Anthony's quick to reach out and grab him by the shoulder. Loki finds himself leaning into the gesture, seeking comfort from the only source he knows. He draws close, closer until Anthony's taken the hint and crawled into the chair and wrapped an arm around him. It's silly how much easier it is with him here, but it's just fact.

"How bad is it", Anthony asks him, his fingers warm and soft against his stomach and shoulder. He traces them along the skin, weeding out the tension that's been building up there.

Loki sighs and creeps closer into the touch. Norns, how he's missed those fingers. "Not as bad as you're thinking. I've just been overexerting myself is all."

The fingers turn still, and Loki closes his eyes, steeling himself for the ensuing argument.

"Loki-"  
"Anthony, please, I'm in no mood for quarrelling."

"This is the third time this week J's had to call for me", Anthony replies. "I'm not exactly in too good of a mood either."

Loki turns to face him. His eyes are narrowed, and his face is closed off, void of any emotion. "Well", he says carefully. "It wasn't my intent to waste your time. It was your...Voice's decision to call for you, not mine."  
Anthony's shoulders sag. He closes his fingers around his lips and shakes his head. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

He does. Of course, he does. He probably wouldn't even be sitting here if he hadn't learned how to decipher Anthony's words. But he's tired, and he's hurt, and he's frustrated, and everything just feels so grating. Loki looks down at their chair, at the space between their fingers. Anthony's got a bandage around his thumb, and there's a bruise upon the back of his hand. If Loki were even half the man he used to be, he could heal these ails with barely a moment's thought. All he can do now is take those hands in his own and give them solace. But there's a space between them, and Loki isn't sure if now's the time to address it.

"Yeah, I know." He drags his hands into his lap and sighs.

"You know I...you know I want you here. I wouldn't have you here if I didn't."

Loki nods. "The Voice told me you were attempting to extend my access to the Tower." He watches the red unfurl across Anthony's cheeks and smiles. "I doubt much will come of it, but I do appreciate your efforts."  
Anthony raises an eyebrow. A cheeky grin spreads across his face, and he leans forward, a sly glint within his eyes. "Excuse me", he scoffs. "But was that-was that a 'thank you'? Was that sincere, genuine gratitude, or are my ears deceiving me?"  
"Ah, it must be your ears." Loki grunts, rolls, and rises to his feet, leaning against Anthony as his balance threatens to betray him. "I'm never grateful."  
Anthony rolls his eyes. He keeps an arm around Loki's lower-back as he guides him to the bar, even after he's caught his footing. "Mm, what if I made you a sandwich?"  
"You don't cook, and I loathe Midgardian food." As he's saying this, he thinks back to his tube of ice cream, which is no doubt a disgusting, lukewarm mess in the other room. He pulls a face but continues in his pace, seeing no reason to lose the warmth of Anthony's arm before he has to.

"You just haven't found anything good", Anthony says as he helps him into his chair. He then takes a seat of his own, reaching into the cooler for two frozen Nakeds. He uncaps the Mango, then passes it to Loki, smirking at the pout he receives in return. "Now that you're, uh, here for a while", he continues, opening his Green Machine. "Maybe I could always take you around, show you some spots."

Loki sips at his drink and nods. "That'd actually be nice", he notes wistfully. "If you don't mind aggravating your Director when you break me out of here."

"Always so eager to break things. But give me a couple of weeks. Fury's already backing off on the single-floor rule. It's only a matter of time before I get to introduce you to the wonder that is New York City Hot Dogs."  
"Tried them. Not a fan."

Anthony places a hand to his chest and groans. "You're breaking my heart." He takes three gulps of his smoothie, swipes a hand over his lip, and belches. Loki hides a smile behind his bottle. "But I'm serious. There's tons of cool stuff to do in New York. Once we get you back on your feet, you won't wanna leave."  
"Oh, I'm certain." He places his bottle on the counter and shoves it away from him. Sheathing his mouth with his hand, he yawns and stretches his legs out beneath him. "But for now, I think I'd just like to rest."

"Rest. Right, of course. Uh." Anthony rises from his seat and wraps his arms around him once more. Loki starts to protest, but moments like these are fleeting, rare, and he'd rather mellow in them than allow them to pass him by.

"Your...Voice doesn't respond well to instructions", Loki tells him as they pause outside his room.

"Ah." Anthony leans against the wall and shrugs. "Usually, he's a peach. But if he suspects any one of the Tower's inhabitants is hurt, he immediately lets me know."  
"What happens if you're hurt?"

He looks down at his fingers. He tugs his lower lip between his teeth and murmurs, "He sends Pepper a text."

Pepper. The girlfriend.

Former girlfriend, Loki reminds himself, but it's not like it matters anyway. He'd have to be mad to even think of pursuing anything beyond whatever this is he has with Anthony. He forces a smile to his face and nods. "Good", he tells him. Anthony looks at him like it's anything but, but he shakes his head and waves a hand. "Get some rest, Anthony. You look worse than I feel."

At this, Anthony frowns and rears his head back. "Well, excuse me. I wasn't aware my dashingly good looks were so important to you."  
"They aren't", Loki chuckles. "If my recovery's going to go nearly as well as it should, I need to be relieved of all stress. And that." He gestures to Anthony's face. "Is stressing me out."

"Well, what can I say, I'm a busy guy. I don't have time to sleep."  
_But you have time to check on me every time I pull my stitches._

Loki shakes the thought from his head. He leans against his doorframe and considers Anthony. Loki's done nothing but rest for the past week, but Anthony looks like he hasn't seen a bed since, well, before. He's heard of Anthony's poor sleep hygiene, but he's never quite looked it in the eye. Now, he is, and he wants nothing more than to take Anthony by the hand and guide him into his bed.

Neither of them are ready for that. But Anthony needs sleep, and Loki needs for Anthony to be okay.

He reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out a purple pouch. Without hesitation, he reaches over and passes it to Anthony. Anthony weighs it in his hand, then looks up, perplexion written clear across his face.  
"It's for sleeping", Loki explains, tucking his arms into his armpits. "Sprinkle some of the powder on your pillow; you'll sleep just fine."  
Anthony smiles. "You aren't supposed to be using your magic."

"I know, I know, and I won't. As long as you promise to use that."

The smile grows wider, softer. He reaches out and places a hand against Loki's chin, staring into his eyes like he knows where they lead. "I still don't get you", Anthony admits, dragging a thumb along the stubble of Loki's chin. "Even after all this time, I can't figure you out."  
Loki closes his eyes. He lifts his hand and presses it over Anthony's. He breathes. "I know." He lingers there, entranced by his touch, before pulling away and stepping over the threshold that separates his room from the hall. Anthony stares at him, still holding that bag of Sleeping Powder.

"Good night."  
Loki nods. "Good night, Anthony." And he closes the door.


	3. 3

It's a few days later when Loki gets permission to leave his floor.

It's about six hours after this announcement when he realizes he doesn't want to leave his floor.

Because, sure, it's nice, and he's glad that he has the extra space should he ever desire it, but the thing is...he doesn't. Being the good guy's hard, especially when you're living with the people you once sought to enslave. Loki's not ready to face them because what'll they see if he does? The man that gave them Midgard's deadliest terrorist attack or a weak, pathetic ghost carrying on in that man's name? He's not sure which he'd rather have, so he settles for neither, cuddled up in a nest of blankets and a bowl of marshmallow cereal.

Before he left for another of his business trips, Anthony shipped off for some books. Loki hasn't heard of any of them, but those of the fantasy and mythology genre, they include some familiar stories. Some of these people he's actually met, but many of them are just stories Frigga would tell him and Thor before bed. That type of thing, nurturing, was never of Odin's nature. He thought of stories as debilitating and held that children ought to grow up as soon as possible.

Loki shakes his head, slams the book shut, and reaches for another.

"Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone", he says, brushing a hand over the cover. He turns it over, prepared for a summary, only to stop by the sound of something wavering, the sound of reality being maneuvered. He looks up from his book and over to the window, where a young girl with big, curly hair is peeling open his window and stepping into his room. In the moment that it takes for Loki to grow defensive, the girl's acknowledged his presence and taken on a defensive stance herself, a field of red tendrils enveloping her.

"Voice", Loki calls out tentatively, his hand dipping beneath his sheets in search of his phone.

"My name is J.A.R.V.I.S.", J.A.R.V.I.S. returns, sounding pleased to have been sought out.

"Right. Um, J.A.R.V.I.S. Do you know this woman?"  
"Yes. This is Wanda Maximoff, although you may know her as the Scarlet Witch. Ms. Maximoff, this is-"

"I know who he is", the woman interrupts. She calls off her energy fields, dropping her hands to her sides; placating yet, he can't help but notice, ready to be launched back into defense should the moment arise. She leans against one of his dressers, and it's then that Loki realizes there's a wet blotch of blood staining her shirt. "I heard of your return, but I wasn't informed that you'd be staying here."

"Yes, well. Anthony and your Director thought it best to keep it hidden. And as I am told, your status as 'Avenger is-"  
"Debatable on a good day", Wanda finishes, inhaling sharply as she leans on his dresser.

Loki purses his lips. He looks to the ceiling, as if to ask the Voice for advice, then sighs, slowly crawling out of bed and to approach her. "You're hurt", he says.

"Really? I hadn't noticed."  
"I could help." Wanda looks up at him, brows furrowed and shoulders drawn in. "I know you have no reason to trust me", he continues, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I have none for you either. You have nothing to fear."  
"I have plenty to fear", she refutes. But she doesn't leave. She shuffles her feet, brushes her hair out of her face, and sighs. "Steve says Tony believes you're...trustworthy." Loki raises his eyebrows as if to say, "See?" But Wanda just shakes her head. "Tony believes a lot of things."  
"You don't trust your teammate?"  
"I trust him with my life. I just know his judgement, like everyone else's, can become skewed given the right circumstances." She looks at him then, as if wanting to peek beneath his skin, and purses her lips. She raises her gaze to meet his eye, tilts her head to the side, and says, "What would it benefit you to heal me?"

"Miss Maximoff, you can either interrogate me, or you can allow me to heal you. It's of no difference to me but please do decide."

Wanda just stares at him. Then, careful so as not to disturb her wounds, she hops onto the dresser, and, with a visible effort, forces herself to relax.

Loki sighs, then steps closer, places a hand on her shoulder, and disperses a field of his own magic over her, immediately alerted to what appears to be a knife wound along her stomach. He hums, closes his eyes, and zeroes in there. Admittedly, he's a bit lacking in knowledge of Midgardian biology, but he's not inept in healing practices; in his years, he's picked up a few spells, has even used them from time to time, and he suspects that humanoids require the same touch.

But he's in recovery. And where once healing a stomach wound might've been a simple task, doing so now could set him back by weeks.

He hates this. He hates being this weak, hates having to put a curb on his magic. Since he was a boy, his magic's been one of the few comforts in his life. When Asgard's expectations grew too unbearable, or his skin unconcealable, his magic was always there, lying in wait to offer a cloak in some form or another. Odin never approved, especially when Frigga began fostering his quest as a mage. But that hadn't mattered because, for once, Loki had the power to decide, and he could decide take on the universe with his magic.

Now, he can barely perform parlor tricks without getting a migraine.

"Mr. Laufeyson", J.A.R.V.I.S. says, startling him from his remorse. Wanda is watching, eyes curious like a cat's, and he knows that had the voice had an accompanying body, it would be, too. "If you should like, I could guide you through tending a wound."

He shouldn't need a guide. He's a thousand years old. He's done things that would, and have, earned that ire Odin, a man who knows no shame; had earth been unguarded, Loki could have taken, could have taken it all with little means of protest and lead it to be one of the greatest Realms in the universe. With his power, and his resolve, he could have gone on to do many a great things and foster a strong, powerful people.

That was Loki, son of Odin, crowned prince of Asgard. But this is Loki, son of Laufey; he's a fox that has long since run out of tricks. He's been stripped of all else. Why not take his magic, the one that truly made him feel a part of this universe.

"Loki?" Wanda pauses, then says, "Are you all right?"

Funny, that question. Humans seem to ask it a lot, though, he can't help but notice, they often don't care too much for the answer.

Loki blinks and nods, slowly. Then, ignoring the immediate strain he feels upon his body, he heals her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo.  
> So Endgame, amirite?  
> (IGNORE THE ENDNOTE, THERE'S A SPOILER)

_It's like sleep paralysis, intoxication, and autoscopy coming together in a cocktail of smug sadism. It's feeling detached from a body that you shouldn't have but you remember possessing. It's watching yourself watching your surroundings and not quite knowing if the drooling, emaciated body lying in the mud is you or not._

_It's feeling the senses return to your being and realizing that for all the running you've done, you've wound up right back where you started._

_His eyes pulse, and the lights dim. Loki's head lolls, and he finds himself staring at the ceiling, where a purple man stands with a sneer. The man flicks his fingers against the bars keeping Loki within the pit._

_"Did you really think I wouldn't find you", he says, and he's suddenly in the pit, dragging a finger up and down the crook of Loki's neck. "Make no mistake, little one. I will always find you. And you will always be mine."_

_The man, he's gone again, but Loki's still here, immobile and without his wits. He groans, and the sky does, too, dropping torrents of water and white fissures. The water gathers around him, and he thinks,_ I could drown in here. _But the water rises, and his body floats, determined to keep him alive for whatever torture the man has prepared._

Who is that man? And why does he frighten me so?

_Loki whimpers and tries to get his fingers to move, to flinch, to twitch, something, anything, but there's nothing. There's just the stubborn beating of his heart and feeble workings of his lungs. He can't do anything, can't even conjure up how he arrived here. All he can do is stare, and even that is a difficult task. He's only been awake for a few minutes, but a burning liquid's slipping into his veins and pulling him under, and, well, what's the point of fighting when you can't even move?_

_He goes under, and it's even worse because there's no burning here, which means he can move and make better sense of things. And under, he knows who the purple man is. And he knows why he's afraid._

_Thanos. He who means Death and who would be quick to disperse it. Loki knows this man, and, arguably, this man knows him better than anyone else. He's stood at this man's side and beamed with pride but also stood beneath him and cried in terror because there was never one without the other. Loki doesn't know how Thanos found him. He doesn't know what he plans to do with him, and he doesn't know what toxins he's pumping into him. But he knows this much: whatever Thanos wants, he's going to get it, and he'll kill Loki before he lets him escape again._

_Norns. He can't go through this again. He barely survived being Thanos's pet, he can't, and won't, live as his prisoner. There has to be someway out of this, but he knows there isn't. Because he's been on the other end of this. And there is no way out._

_"Wake up, Odison. You have a guest."_

_The sound of metal slamming against hard rock startles Loki out of unconsciousness. Not even a moment later, there's a body being tossed into the pit and, more importantly, onto Loki. Once they've gathered their bearings, the person groans, pulls away, and squints down at him._

_It's him. That human. The glowing one._

_Stark._

_"Loki", he sputters; he stands, only to slip in the watery sludge of the pit and crash back to the ground. He presses a protective hand to his chest and narrows his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"_

_"I could...I could ask you the same." He feels better than before, but better still isn't good. It must go beyond feeling because Stark is staring at him like he's grown a tail._

_Norns, it's not his tail, is it?_

_"Are you...drunk?" He says it like he's in awe, like the thought of Loki being anything but sober goes against any and all forms of reality. Needless to say, it does take quite a bit to get him drunk, but it's not impossible. Especially not when you've given the drugs to a madman._

_Before he can answer, Thanos slams the gate of the pit and slides its locks into place. Loki stiffens, presses back against the rock he'd been sleeping against, and clenches his fists. Thanos just smirks. Stark looks between the two and raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't say anything. Thanos also isn't saying anything, but, then again, he's never really had to._

_He leaves again, and then it's just Loki, Stark, and the rain. Stark brushes his hair back, spits out some water, and searches for who knows what. He purses his lips, then turns to Loki, tugging his feet close to his chest. Loki just glares._

_"Don't give me that look", Stark says, holding his hands out to him. "I wanted no part of this."_

_"Right. And that makes me feel...feel...so much...better." Loki's eyes rolls back into his head, and he finds he's falling again, falling into memories, nightmares, he'd long since suppressed, and they're all just coming so fast and so hard, and they just won't stop and-_

"Sir!"

Loki gasps and jolts up, kicking his blankets off of him and crawling out of bed. He stumbles into the nearby bean bag chair, wraps his arms around him, and curls into a bawl, shivering and whimpering as the dream clings to him like a parasite. All the while, someone's calling for him, at first softly and patiently, then loud and insistent.

"Mr. Laufeyson."  
"Loki. Loki, wake up!"

"Sir, I don't believe shouting will help, and he is already awake."  
Loki peeks through the space between his arms. Someone's flicked the lights on and, for lack of a better word, shattered his door. It's too bad. He kind of liked that door.

Loki lowers his arms and stares up at the person gripping him like an ailing child; he's pressed against someone's chest, and that someone is rambling on, arguing about something nonsensical with the Voice. Against his better judgement, Loki pulls the plain white tee within his fingers and presses his face further into the person's chest. "Thor", he says shakily; he sounds just like he did as a child on Asgard, crawling into his elder brother's bed after enduring night terrors of the Garmr and the Lyngbakr. Any other time, he would recoil at the thought of being so close to Thor. But the dream is still too close, still too vivid, and Thor had always been able to keep the monsters at bay.

"Loki", Thor says, sounding relieved to have finally gotten through to him. "What's wrong? Do you need emergency care? Is it your wounds? Are you-"  
Loki digs his nails into his chest and shakes his head. "No, no, I'm fine. I just-I just, I can't-"

Understanding passes across Thor's face. He nods, tightens his arms around Loki. "Okay", he says quietly. "Okay."

Loki could hate Thor. He hates how easily he gets on with people, how easily he gets on with life. Everything he's ever wanted, he's received or obtained with little effort. He finished the race and got the trophy, nevermind having barely lifted a finger, while Loki's had to bleed and scratch just to get to the finish line and realize that after all this time, he was never even a contestant, never even had a chance. Loki could hate Thor if Thor could be detestable. He's loud, boisterous, prone to tossing that hammer around without an apt assessment of the situation. But these traits, aggravating though they may be, aren't enough to draw Loki's hatred.

Because when Thor is loud, it's only because he's happy. When he is boisterous, it's because something so wonderful, so lovely has gotten him in such good spirits that he can't contain himself. And when he's reaching for Mjölnir, it's because he's been hurt deeply. Thor's never really understood him, but he's always tried, even when Loki pushed him away and hurt him to his core, he was still trying. Thor may be a lot of things, but the object of Loki's hate is not one of them.

"How are you fairing?"

It's later now. No longer dark but not light either, just that weird space where the faintest touch of day spreads across the night sky. It's usually a comforting sight, but now, all he feels is fatigue and the urge to go back to sleep.

"Fine", he murmurs. He doesn't pull away, and Thor doesn't push. He just brings a hand up to comb it through Loki's hair.  
"Tony says you won't leave your floor", he notes, staring at the stacks of books occupying the room.

"I have no need to."

"You're lonely."

Loki scowls. He stiffens within Thor's arms. The terror and legarthy of sleep is fading, and the current state of their relationship is returning to him. This is not how they are. It hasn't been, not in years, decades if he's being honest. He pulls away, turns his back to Thor, and wraps his arms around himself.

The silence between them, once a comfort, now stretches thin like a rubber band between an unsuspecting toddler's fingers. Thor tries to place a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it off, putting even more space between them.

"Voice", Loki calls out, closing his eyes. "Why is my brother in my room?"

"He heard your cries and wished to provide you comfort."

He clenches a fist at his side, prepared to launch into a tirade, but Thor's crawled out of their chair to sit before him. Loki falls silent. He breathes and watches Thor stare at him with unconcealed worry.

"This is not Asgard", he tells Loki, placing his hands in his lap. "You don't have to hide. Not here, not around our friends."  
"Your friends", Loki corrects. He rises to his feet and walks over to the window, to stare out at the city he'd once attempted to conquer. "To them, I will only ever be the man that means them harm."  
"Can you blame them?"  
"No." Blue bleeds across his cheeks, and he huffs, pressing his palms against them. "I know my actions have caused...unpleasant sentiments. I just don't see the point in dredging them up once more. I'm only meant to be here for a few months, correct?"  
Thor sighs. He brushes a hand through his hair and shakes his head. "Yes but-"  
"Then why should I interact with them?" He turns around to glare at Thor. He can feel the golden tendrils burning into his skin, the arctic chill tainting his color. It's the first time in a long time that he's lost control like this, but he can't find it in himself to be surprised. No strength means no magic, and no magic means no cloaking spells. Loki takes his head in his hands and laughs bitterly. "My apologies will have no merit."  
Thor blinks. He steps closer, watching transformation afflicting his brother. This time, when he grabs his shoulder, Loki doesn't recoil. He just grits his teeth.

"They did with Tony."

Right. Because his experience with Anthony is so replicable. Whatever he has with Anthony, it's abnormal, and it's something that even now, months into the relationship, he has trouble comprehending. Just the thought of pursuing something beyond enemies with the Avengers is disconcerting, stealing him of more energy than a jog up the Tower's staircases ever could.

Thor must sense this. And because Thor's not nearly as stupid as people would like to believe, he senses everything that this implies. "Your feelings for him", he says softly. "They are not of a...platonic nature?"  
"I don't want to speak of this." Outside the window, the city blinks to life; businesses flip their signs to "Open", radio stations stir, and civilians stumble out of their homes and spill onto trains. It's noisy and busy, and busy is good. Busy keeps him distracted. "Anthony is a good friend, and that's it."

"He is a good man", Thor continues. He's got a smile on his face, the one he always wears when Loki struggles to admit something of himself. "Kind, considerate, humorous, brave. He would be a good partner."

Loki narrows his eyes. "Then why don't you court him?" The moment the words leave his lips, his face contorts with horror. Almost everything he's ever wanted, Thor has gotten. That's never been the case in terms of romance, for a number of reasons, but the thought is something he can't bear. He whirls his head around to face him, but Thor is smirking, pushing down a chuckle as his shoulders bounce in amusement. Loki shoves him away and pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as he murmurs, "Shut up."  
"Brother", Thor says between giggles. "I would never-"  
"I said, 'shut up'!"

Thor just keeps laughing. He reaches out, pulls Loki into his arms, and embraces him in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, brother. You're going to be all right."  
Loki exhales and resigns himself to the hug. "You're insufferable."  
"And you're adorable."

"I could kill you if I wanted."  
Thor rolls his eyes, then rubs his knuckles into Loki's scalp.

All things considered, it's not the worst way to wake up.

. . .

He doesn't promise anything, but morning comes, and Captain Rogers walks into the Main Floor's kitchen to make a pot of coffee, only to find a pot already brewed.

No one admits to it, and an argument breaks out to find the do-gooder. Someone threatens someone with a banana, a fork gets stuck in the marble cake sitting on the counter, and a week's worth of eggs splatters against the floor. Anthony just stands in the corner, drinking his coffee with a fond smile, and Thor pretends he doesn't notice, hiding his grin behind a powdered doughnut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> marvel really just came in and annihilated both halves of my ship. hoist the sails, swap the poop deck, maties, we rolling on a ghost ship!


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Team's called in to assist in a hostage situation, and Loki, worried for Tony's safety, makes a decision.

Loki doesn't understand Anthony's fascination with cars.

Vehicular transport is always a rather impressive feat, regardless of its sophistication, and he'll admit that he's surprised a Realm such as Migard could achieve such a milestone, but he doesn't understand where Anthony's intrigue stems from. A man of his intellect and unwavering curiosity? If Loki wasn't currently standing in the man's garage, he would have laughed at the very notion. But he is, and he can see through clear lenses that Anthony has something of an obsession with vehicles.

Loki doubts he'll ever understand what it is about them that allures Anthony, but he understands the art of collecting. Back on Asgard, he himself had a rather extensive array of knives and daggers. He could never make sense of it, never really thought about it, but he knows the root probably lies in something of a psychological origin. He suspects the same applies to Anthony, which is why, when he reveals himself under the hood of a blue automobile, covered in grease and oil, Loki does little more than smile and crouch beside him.

"Aw." Anthony slides out from underneath the car and sits up; he swipes his palms against his thighs and smirks. "Did you come all the way down here to see little old me?"

Loki rolls his eyes. He hops onto the hood of a nearby car, snickering at the dismayed squawk this pulls from Anthony. "No, of course not. I am merely here to admire the other metal bodies that you care so much for."

"Really?" Anthony rises to his feet and looks up at him, placing his hands on either side of Loki. "Because just the other day, you told me you hated 'vehicles' and that one of your favorite pastimes was to steal them, melt them down, and turn them into weapons."

"I might've exaggerated, just a bit."  
Anthony nods and licks his lips. "Uh huh. Sure"  
Loki's eyes dart down to his lips. Anthony's tongue drags across them slowly, tantalizing, hypnotic, then disappears back into his mouth. Heat gathers in Loki's stomach, and his eyes turn to Anthony's arms, which have encased him on the hood of the car. He swallows and turns his gaze back to Anthony's face just in time to see red dash across his cheeks and his eyes flick away. Anthony pulls back, then ducks back beneath the car.

Loki blinks, sits up straighter, and pulls at the collar of his shirt. Anthony's shirt. Which still smells like Anthony because he stole it from his dirty laundry this morning. Loki pinches the bridge of his nose, startling when the car makes a loud, churning noise.

"Anthony!", he shouts, tightly gripping the sides of the car. He glares at him when Anthony rises again to give him a cheeky smile. "By the Norns, you're infuriating", he grouses, slapping him across the shoulder.

"You're just now figuring that out?" Anthony hops onto the car's hood to sit beside him. It's not as distracting as before, but Loki can't help but note that their hands are resting side by side. If he moves his pinky a fraction of an inch, they'll be touching.

What a thought.

"So what did you come down here for?" Anthony's pulled a rag out of his back pocket to clean some of the grime off his hands. "The main suite outta snacks?"

Loki shakes his head. "No. But Thor did say something about his suite being low on something of a Pop Tart."  
"Your brother's a black hole", he says with light, amused eyes. "I'll tell the J-bird to put it on the list."  
"But that's not why I'm here. I, um, I was in your room, and your phone, or one of them, was beeping." Loki reaches into his pocket and pulls out the phone, passing it to Anthony. "You missed a call and a message from your Director. He says it's a matter of import."

Anthony unlocks the phone and calls Fury. As it's ringing, he looks up at Loki and says, "You were in my room?" His eyes then dip down to the Jurassic Park t-shirt Loki's sporting; he raises an eyebrow, and Loki flushes blue. Before he can defend himself, though, the call goes through, and Fury answers. "Nick", Anthony says, still watching Loki. "What's the word? Don't tell me we've got unicorns shitting rainbows over Easter Island again."

The conversation goes on; Anthony keeps looking at him, and Loki pretends he doesn't notice. When it eventually ends, he turns back to Anthony, and it's then that he sees that joyfulness that had been there before had all but evaporated. He frowns and reaches out, only to pull his hand back to his chest when Anthony suddenly hops off the car and begins tapping his wrists.

"Anthony", he says, debating if he should follow or not. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He holds out his arms, and the floor beneath him opens, allowing for one of his suits to emerge and envelope him. "There's a couple of assholes holding a church hostage, and NYPD needs a little help." He sighs and shakes his head. "Last time I have J go radio silent." He clenches his hands into fists, then taps his ear, sparring Loki one last look before looking to the ceiling. "I'll be back in a minute." His rockets propel him into the air, and he turns to fly out the door. But Loki grabs hold of his wrist.

And he doesn't let go.

Anthony's faceplate peels back; he looks down at Loki, who's opening his mouth but not saying anything. "Loki", he says to him. "This isn't my first rodeo. I'll be okay."

Loki squeezes Anthony's wrist. He's made of metal. He can't feel the pressure, can't feel the panic Loki's barely keeping at bay, but he sees those thin, trembling fingers, and he sees the way Loki dips his head to shield his eyes with his hair. Anthony lifts his other hand, cups Loki's cheek, and points his face up.

"I'll just be a minute", he repeats with a smile. "When I get back, I'll make us some popcorn, and we can laugh at shitty Batman movies. But I have to go now."

Loki nods. He allows himself to linger against the cool metal of Anthony's hand, then pulls away, folding his arms across his chest and pulling his lips into a feeble smile. "I pick the movie."  
Antony snorts. "We'll see." And with that, he turns over and propels himself out of the room and into whatever life-threatening situation his friends have called him into.

For a moment, he remains where he is, sitting on the car and breathing in the scent of car oil and hair grease, before scooting off and rushing out of the garage.

He brushes past Barnes on his way to the main suite, who, interestingly enough, looks just as panicked as Loki feels. It's just a moment, the two rushing in opposite directions, exchanging perplexed glances, but it's something that Loki knows'll probably come back to him in the dead of night. But it's just a moment, and in the next, Barnes is taking off down the stairs and Loki into the main suite.

Loki dashes across the room, scoops the remote controller off the coffee table, and turns on the television set. The expansive screen blinks to life, and he hops on the couch, tucking his legs beneath him as he waits for the TV to finish loading. He's no longer running, but his breath isn't back to him. The Voice is pestering him about his inhaler; Loki should probably listen, should definitely listen because Norns know his recovery has been set back enough as it is. But he's flicking through the channels, and he doesn't have time for breathing.

The Avengers are on ABC 7. Their Falcon and Lang are talking to the reporters, no doubt serving as a distraction should the assholes be watching. In the background, Loki can see their Widow and Rhodes sneaking through some bushes, but they're discreet enough that the average viewer wouldn't notice. The other Avengers have taken similar positions, but Anthony, he can't help but notice, is nowhere to be seen.

Which totally isn't weird. Not like you'd expect nearly six feet of gold and red metal to be extremely noticeable or anything.

"Mr. Laufeyson", J.A.R.V.I.S. says. "Would you like a sandwich?"  
"No, thank you." Loki glares at the remote and jams the volume button upwards. "Can't you make this any louder?"

"I'm afraid not, sir." He falls silent, only to return, this time with a chipper tone to his voice. "Mr. Laufeyson. I do believe your new shipment of books have arrived. Would you like to collect them?"

"Tell them to leave them at the door; I'll get them later", Loki murmurs. He stands from the couch, then walks over to the TV, watching with a paling face as one of the asshole kicks open the doors of the church and begins shouting at everyone. He covers his mouth with his hand and searches the screen once more for Anthony.

He still can't find him.

"You have a communications link with him", Loki says, and he can't seem to get the words out quickly enough. "Is he okay?"  
"Mr. Stark has turned off communications for fear of discovery."

Loki drags in a shaky inhale, then brushes his hair out of his face. He can't deal with this right now, not after everything; they've only just gotten back, and Anthony's gone and tossed himself right back into the frying pan like a fatally enthusiastic fish. Of course, Anthony is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and he always has his Avengers should something go against the tide, and it's not like Loki's in the position to help anyone.

But there's a group of people pointing guns at everyone, and Anthony is missing. And Loki just wants him to be back, at home with him, safe and happy, sitting as notclose as they'll allow.

"Voice." Loki stares down at his hands and wills the magic to come to his fingertips. "I'm still on...house arrest? Correct?"

"Yes, sir."  
He gulps. Walking towards the window, he rolls his shoulders and calls upon all the magic in his being. He presses a finger against two spots in the glass; one where his head would be and one at floor. He drags a finger horizontally along the top and bottom, then steps back. Once he pulls away, the glass flickers then begins to peel back, revealing a door-shaped hole in its wake. "If I leave." He cranes his head out of the hole and watches the emergency vehicles careening down the street. "How long will it be before someone comes for me?"  
"Approximately three minutes."  
Loki bites his lip. "How long if you don't alert anyone?"

J.A.R.V.I.S. falters. The sirens continue blaring from below, and the wind whistles in Loki's ear, billowing his hair around him like a ship's wayward flags at sea. Neither says a word, and Loki thinks he should just leave before the Voice has the chance to alert anyone.

But J.A.R.V.I.S. surprises him. "Hours. Fury and notS.H.I.E.L.D. have arranged a system where we inform them, twice a day, of your whereabouts. As long as you remain...disguised, no one would know that you left the Tower."  
Loki turns and looks up. "Would you alert them?"  
There is no pause, no hesitation. "No."

With that, Loki jumps from the window. He allows themself to fall halfway, then pulls a portal through the air and launches himself into it. As he's travelling between time and space, he glamours himself as a Midgardian and braces himself. It's only moments later when he passes through and suddenly finds himself standing in an alleyway, lying in a puddle of murky water.

He pulls himself to a stand, using the wall of a nearby building as purchase, and stumbles out of the alley.

There are people clogging the streets, leaving the vehicles with little room to maneuver. He'll never make it to the church in a cab, but he needs a few minutes to regather his strength.

As Loki's pondering what to do, a couple with a freight bicycle strolls past. He stares, befuddled by the oddness of such a sight, then waves a hand and motions for them to come back his way.  
"Miss", one of the men says as they pause beside him. "Need a ride somewhere?"

Loki sighs and crawls into the carriage. "I need to get to that church; the one with the hostages?"  
"What?" The other man turns around, bewildered, and huffs. He takes in Loki's soiled, muddied jumpsuit and frowns. "I'm sorry, but are you okay? You sure you don't wanna maybe stop by a hospital-"  
"Or the nuthouse." The other man gives him a shrug, and he pouts, turning back around in his seat.

"What are you, a reporter or something?" The man shakes his head. "Look, however much you think you're gonna get for covering this, I just gotta say-"

"Mm hm." Loki reaches into his pocket, summons six twenty dollar bills, and thrusts them into the man's hand. "Would this be enough?"

As it turns out, it is enough. The first man objects at first but eventually cedes, glaring at his partner as they pedal down the street.

By wheels, it doesn't take long to get the church, but even still, Loki has to walk the last two blocks because even the second man can agree it's not a good idea. It's not too much of a hassle. With the yellow and red tape going up everywhere, a hulking, glowing chariot wouldn't exactly be the stealthiest way of going about his plan.

Speaking of plans…

"It's fine", Loki murmurs, ducking behind a RedEye box, waiting for a line of SWAT Team members to past. Once the sound of their pounding feet dissipate, he sticks his head out and scurries across the street. "It's fine; it'll all work out."

Barnes and Rogers have abandoned the safety of discretion and joined Falcon and Lang near the reporters out front. There appears to be some sort of commotion within the church, and, moments later, Loki's proven right. The windows to the church shatter, and several guns emerge, each targeted at an Avenger.

"Anthony", Loki breathes. He ducks and rushes behind a police cruiser; then, summoning just enough magic to render himself invisible, he bolts past the SWATS, the police, the frozen Avengers and ducks behind the church.

Loki presses his head against the brick wall and pants. He looks around and finds the Widow darting amongst the trees; she pauses upon seeing him and settles on a branch, watching him with a perplexed expression. Then, as quick as it'd arrived, it disappears, and the usual composure of her face returns. She lifts her hands and signs to him, "Stay down and keep out of sight. Someone will come for you later".

He's used more than enough magic for today. Anymore, and he's likely to be banished to bedrest for a month. Maintaining his glamour is not a matter of ease, but it's keeping him shielded from notS.H.I.E.L.D.'s eyes. And as long as he remains hidden, he can help Anthony.

Loki nods, waiting until the Widow disappears once more to stand, and rounds the building. But before he can move any further, a man and a woman dressed in all black walk out of the back and find him standing there. They both point their pistols at him and shout, "Get down on the ground, now!"

Loki flinches, tosses his hands up, and hisses, "Calm down, I'm moving".

The woman scoffs, rolls her eyes, and crosses the space between them. She grabs him by his hair and tugs, pulling until Loki cries out and falls to his knees. She shoves the gun underneath his chin and snickers. "Don't fuck with me, lady. I ain't afraid to kill."

Loki inhales, looks up at her, and purses his lips. "Funny. Neither am I." He hops to his feet and kicks the woman in the knee. Snatching the gun from her, he then points it at the man, scowls, and jerks his head behind him. "Leave", Loki says, mustering just enough of his magic to put more authority into his voice. "Walk to the front of the building, with your arms up, and surrender yourself to the authorities."

They grit their teeth and look to one another. Loki groans, uses his free hand to press his fingers to his temple, and pulses out another wave of persuasion. "Leave." Blood trickles from his nose, and he sways on his feet, watching the two with a growing pit of trepidation in his stomach.

But they aren't paying attention. Rather, they're turning around and doing as he told. Loki blinks, drops the pistol, and staggers until he can lean up against the wall. The world is spinning, twirling, lilting, and he needs to get a grip.

As he's regaining his composure, shouts emerge from within the church, and something explodes. Loki blinks, rounds the side of the building, and watches the Team leading a frantic crowd of people out of the church. Above them, Anthony floats, keeping his palms facing the doors of the church as the rest of the Team guides out the hostage-takers.

"All right, everybody", Anthony's saying. "Situation's contained. It's all handled."  
Loki sighs, allowing himself to slide down to the ground. His legs are practically screaming with relief, and he can feel his magic flinching as it struggles to replenish itself.

He watches as the civilians are lead into separate police automobiles and the Avengers gather round in the middle of the street. He can't hear what the latter is saying, but he can that they're all far more relaxed than they had been moments ago. They're all okay.

Anthony's okay.

Loki groans, crawls to his feet, and starts looking for a way back to the Tower.

. . .

"Okay, guys, high fives all around." Anthony chuckles and raises a glass. "That was some great work out there. No casualties, very little property damage, probably only a few years of ensuing therapy. Stellar performance, people, and I, for one, could not be prouder."  
Rhodes rolls his eyes and gives him a light punch in the shoulder. "Uh huh", he muses as he tips back his drink; he points a figure at Anthony and shakes his head. "Even more 'not as proud' as the Doombots in Jersey?"  
"Or the Symbiote Outbreak in Connecticut", Barton cuts in. Beside him, Widow raises her hand and smirks. "Or the Turkey Explosion in Minnesota?"

Barnes looks between all of them and the Captain and raises his eyebrows. Rogers just smiles and gives him a nonchalant shrug. Barnes narrows his eyes, murmurs something, and downs two glasses of drink.

"I don't need you guys reminding me how supportive and wonderful I am", Anthony says in a overly snobbish voice. He tosses an arm around Loki's shoulders and cackles. "The point is, you guys are awesome, and, yep, you deserve the credit."  
"Yeah, right." From his seat on one of the couches, Wilson cranes his head around and calls out to Banner, "Hey, man, I think it's time for a cutoff".

Anthony giggles and slouches against Loki. Loki wraps an arm around his waist and guides him to one of the couches. There, he grabs a bottle of water from the table and passes it to Anthony, who, in turn, merely pouts and stares down at his empty glass.

"You've had enough", Loki says with a light laugh, setting the glass aside. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Banner and Lang eyeing him warily and Rogers watching him with undisclosed suspicion. It's been about a week since Loki's begun leaving his quarters, and, while they've all been amicable enough, they're still maintaining their distance. And he knows that they're all suspicious of his relationship with Anthony. Afterall, if not for it, Loki likely wouldn't even be here.

"Haven't had a drink in a while", Anthony's murmuring between sips of water. "Almost forgot what it felt like."

Loki turns to look at Anthony. He frowns and says, "Are you not supposed to be drinking?"

"Mm. According to my Twelve Step Program, no."  
Loki's shoulders slump. He reaches out and places a hand on his. "Anthony."

Anthony just gives him a tired, sad smile. "Needed something to take the edge off." He yawns, then scoots closer to Loki, letting his head rest against his shoulder. Loki stares down at him before letting his head fall against Anthony's.

It's a couple of minutes later, when the others have begun to take part in some kind of miming game, when Anthony suddenly mutters, "Lo?"

Loki looks down at him. "Yes?"

Anthony rolls his head back to meet his stare. "People are saying they saw someone jumping from Avenger Tower and, later, getting into an incident with those assholes from the church. Some badass in a jumpsuit." He pulls a errant strand from Loki's shirt and twirls it between his fingers. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Loki looks away and turns to watch the game. He isn't sure who's winning or the purpose of it. "No, of course not."  
Anthony nods and pulls his legs onto the couch. He places his head against Loki's leg and presses his knuckles into his collarbone. "Ah. So who do you think it was?"  
"A good samaritan, no doubt."

He just rolls his eyes and says, "Right", and, shortly after, falls asleep.

The rest of the night passes without much event. No one goes to sleep, so, after they've finished their game, someone turns on the TV and puts on a ridiculous movie about talking food. Loki doesn't watch much of it; he just sits there, eyes closed, Anthony in his lap, and waits for his strength to return. At some point, Thor does come over to talk to him. But by then, the weariness of the day's begun to catch up to him. They've only been talking for a few minutes when Loki drifts into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and tell me what you think! And also, my tumblr is ashensunsets. You guys can watch me be cringe, it'll be great.


	6. 6

A couple of days have passed, and the mess with the church fiasco has been as sorted as best it can be; the press conferences have died down, and the Avengers have returned to their quarters, doing whatever it is that Avengers do when they're not Avenging. After its massive depletion, Loki's magic is finally returning to him, but, even still, he feels weary and drained, like someone's been siphoning the energy out of him. J.A.R.V.I.S. says it's nothing to worry about, that, like his magic, his strength will return after an extended period of bedrest.

Unfortunately, Anthony's taken that to a rather literal extent and bought several dozen mattresses so that, should Loki ever need to lie down, he won't have to travel far no matter where in the Tower he is. Fortunately, though, Anthony's been a bit busy with his "tech-stuff", so Loki's able to stay on his feet, and Avengers (mainly Thor and Sam) get to indulge in the sudden fortress of mattresses.

So things are kind of soft, a little easygoing, and Loki's thinking of maybe even talking to someone, when J.A.R.V.I.S. informs him that he's been invited to a celebratory party for the Avengers' assist in the takedown at the church.

Well. Not him; the woman he was pretending to be.

Because, yeah, people jumping out of skyscrapers do, occasionally, get caught on video.

notS.H.I.E.L.D.'s talking about a "reveal" of some sorts, but Anthony keeps them at bay, instead getting them to settle on just attending the party and getting acquainted with the public. Loki isn't too keen on the idea, but he supposes it's better than anyone finding out just who the woman was.

"A little word of advice", Anthony says, standing in front of his mirror as he struggles with his tie. "These things, they look a lot scarier than they are. All you have to do is show up, smile, and say thank you for whatever these people think they deserve gratitude for."

Loki smirks from where he's sat on Anthony's bed. "I may not be a prodigy on all things Midgard, but I do know what a societal party is. I attended many of them on Asgard."  
Anthony looks at him in the mirror. "Did you like them?"

"Hm." Loki leans back on his shoulders and flexes his toes. "The drinks were a delight."  
Anthony snorts. Turning his attention back to his tie, he shakes his head, giggles, and says, "Well, you got me there". Loki's face fills with regret at that, but Anthony just waves him off; he pulls the tie into a neat bundle and turns from the mirror, a hand on his hip as he smiles devilishly. "How do I look?"

Loki continues to stare at him, wine glasses and abandoned corks on his mind, before sighing and shaking his head. "You look good."

Eager, excited, like he always gets before these kind of things. And Loki would be, too, just a little, if he weren't so worried about Anthony's drinking problem. With the rest of the Team there, he supposes it won't be too difficult, but he still worries.

"You look good", Loki repeats quietly, and Anthony's cheeks turn a light red. Loki sits up in his bed, crossing his legs, and places his hands on his knees.

Anthony crosses the room and sits besides him, taking in his joggers, t-shirt, and fuzzy socks.

"No need to worry", Loki says, upon following his line of sight. "I have an outfit."

At that, Anthony sits back. He scratches the back of his head and says, "About that. Uh, so you know, people aren't expecting you to be there. And I know you're still, you know, not really yourself, so-"  
"My magic is fine. I'm afraid it's my energy that's more of a problem. I should be able to conjure up my previous glamour and get along just fine." When Anthony just continues to stare at him, Loki frowns and feels his face falling. "What?"

"Nothing, I just." Anthony wipes his hands on his thighs and looks up at him. "Lo, we've been gone for three months now, and you've been in recovery for nearly two. You're not getting better."

He places his hand on top of Loki's and stares at the red bedspread between them. When he looks back up, his eyes are soft but worried, like he's trying to keep his composure. "I know things have been complicated, with how often you've been using your magic and everything, but I don't-I don't know. Are you okay?"

What a pair we make. Whilst I worry for you, you worry for me. It's a wonder either of us are still functioning.

Loki brushes his finger alongside Anthony's and nods. "Anthony, I am fine. My magic's always been a bit finnicky when my health's unstellar. And with all that happened in that pit." He closes his eyes, inhales, and draws comfort from Anthony closing his hand around his. "The next year's going to be a struggle. I'm going to be weak and tired and, at times, I won't be able to even sense my magic." Anthony wraps an arm around him, and Loki sinks against his side, sighing as he takes in the smoky scent of his cologne. "It'll be hard. Honestly, I don't think it's wise for me to even attend this party. I can barely go for a run as is, and I doubt anyone will be impressed with me."

Anthony scoffs. He pulls several tufts of hair behind Loki's neck and brushes a finger up and down his sideburns. "Trust me. You're smart, you're powerful, you're, hell, you're amazing. This planet could do with a lot more people like you."

Opening his eyes, Loki leans back, cranes his neck around, and looks up at him. "You think I'm smart?"  
Before Anthony can respond, someone knocks on his door. Seconds later, Vision phases through it and floats down to the floor. Loki and Anthony disentangle themselves from one another but not before receiving a look from Vision.  
"V, buddy", Anthony says with a light laugh. "Uh, is the limo here?"

Vision brushes his fingers against his chin, his eyes darting to Loki, then nods. "Yes", he states. "It's parked just out front. I suggest we leave now, as the radio is detailing a rather horrific crash just a block before the Hudson Terrace. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'course." With that, he rises and then extends a hand to Loki, who glamours himself in a shimmering green dress as the woman he'd assumed just days prior. Anthony blinks, gulps, and nods to himself. "Wow", he breathes.

Vision rises into the air, then phases back through the door. "We'll be waiting downstairs", he says before his body passes through the oakwood.

Loki holds out his arm and jerks his head to the door. "Shall we?"

Anthony wraps his arm around his and smiles. "Definitely."

. . .

It's an uncomfortable car ride.

Nobody says anything, and, anytime someone tries to, the Widow shuts them down with a rather heated glare in both their and Loki's direction. Loki would go to Anthony for comfort, but Rogers was rather insistent that Anthony sit by him to discuss some matter with him. So he sits beside Thor, who's spent most of the trip sending him supportive thumbs-up and not-so-discreetly munching on Hershey bars.

So yeah. Uncomfortable.

The limo arrives at the Hudson Terrace, and, instantly, it's nothing but shouting and white flashes, just cameras and people everywhere. The Avengers appear to take it in stride, while Loki's left feeling blinded and disoriented. He reaches out, searching for purchase of something, and quickly finds himself being grabbed by his forearm and lead into the building.

"I probably should have warned you about that", Thor murmurs as they rush away from the paparazzi and up the stairs. "Humans, they, uh, they enjoy looking at each other."  
Loki scoffs and looks back at the crowd scrambling to photograph the Team. "I'd say 'stalking'. They're like vulchers."  
Thor just shrugs and gives him a sheepish smile. "You'll get used to it. It's a bit irksome at times, but it's not all bad."  
But of course he would say that. Thor's always been good with crowds. And people in general, really.

Loki presses a hand to his face and rubs the skin behind his eyes. Not tonight. The Avengers are already trying their damndest to ruin this night for him; he doesn't need any further assistance from himself.

They walk onto the Terrace, which is nothing more than longue lacking a ceiling. It's glowing with sot, warm colors, and someone's put on a serene jazz record. With the Midgardian sky stretching above them and the comforting music and lighting, the Terrace is the exact kind of place Loki could see himself venturing off to in pursuit of a good time.

Only, at this particular moment, there's a rather concerning amount of "official" looking people adorning the room. Upon their entrance, everyone turns to look at them, to look at Loki, and immediately ceases in their conversations.

"They're staring", Loki murmurs as they walk over to the one of the many couches littering the Terrace.

"They probably just want to talk", Thor whispers back. He leans forward to the table before them and takes two abnormally large-sized wine glasses from the table and passes one to Loki. "I bet they think you're cool."  
"Yes, that must be it." Loki tips back his drink and frowns. It's in moments like these, and usually only moments like these, when he misses life on Asgard. As much of a nightmare actually living there was, there was no denying that the Realm was one of the Arts, and one of those arts included its drinks. And he's craving it now more than ever, even considering the disaster that was his youth. "This drink is horrible", he mutters, glaring at his glass. As he's staring, he's thinking of Anthony and wondering just how big a distraction he can cause to steal him from the Avengers and take him someplace less tempting.

Thor, who's reaching for the bottle on the table, pauses and looks at him. His eyes flicker to the bar in the corner, and his hands move to pour himself another drink. "Why don't you go there", he suggests with a nod to the counter. "Maybe you could make something."

His confusion must be showing because Thor lowers his glass to say, "A mixture of drinks. I believe it's called a cocktail."

A cocktail. Yes, he's heard Anthony mention it before, usually with a bitter longing on his face; the thought has Loki more determined than ever to snatch hold of him and teleport him someplace far, far away from prying eyes.

Of course, he has neither the energy nor the clearance to do such a thing, but there are other methods.

Loki's about to excuse himself to go find him when Barnes and Rogers sit down on the loveseats beside them. Before he can splutter out a response, Thor is sitting up, beaming, and outstretching a hand to Barnes.

"You must be Bucky", Thor is saying, shaking his hand rather vigorously. "Steve has told me much about you."

Rogers smirks, and Barnes flushes bright red, flicking his eyes to the former before turning back to face Thor.

"And you must be Thor", Barnes murmurs, his eyes narrowing as they dip down to his shoulders. "I thought you had a cape."

Rogers bumps his shoulder against Barnes's, then looks to Loki, who, on instinct, finds himself shrinking into the couch and closer to Thor.

"Lila", Rogers says, the words coming out stilted and airless. "Are you enjoying the party?"

Loki looks down at his glass, then back to Rogers. "Yes. And you?"

Rogers nods. "It's nice. Not too many people; always a plus."  
"Right." He drags his finger along the rim of his cup and bites his lip. "And there's plenty to drink."  
At that, Rogers raises an eyebrow, his expression growing darker. "Well, I guess it's no wonder you and Tony are getting along so well."

Thor pours them some more wine, smiles, and laughs. "Yes. He and Tony are getting quite close."  
Loki clears his throat before swallowing his drink and glaring at him. "Brother", he drawls. "Didn't you say you wanted to go sample some of those delightful, little horderves ?"

His eyes widening like space unfurling a new system of stars, Thor pauses in his sipping and nods. "Yes. I'm gonna go find some." He rises to his feet, then says to Rogers, "Steve, come join me."  
"All right." He turns to Barnes, but before he can invite him along, Thor's grabbed Rogers by the shoulders and begun directing him away, looking back to toss Loki a mischievous grin. "Oh, Barnes, Loki wishes to speak to you about some things. We shall return shortly."

Loki purses his lips and recedes even further into the couch. He twirls his fingers and levitates his glass to the table, folding his hands in his lap as he looks anywhere but in Barnes's direction.

He knows Barnes. Much like with the rest of the Avengers, Loki had spent his first few days in the Tower gathering research on them, learning of their stories, their successes, their failures, their relations to the public. Many of them don't exactly excel in that last area, but Barnes probably has both the most obscure and most horrid reputation amongst his fellow Teammates. As Barnes, he is Rogers' right-hand-man, loyal and persistent and living, which, for some reason, nobody seems to question. As the Winter Soldier, he is a faceless agency's weapon, ruthless and cold and calculating. As Barnes, he was a free spirit, carefree but undeniably loyal and righteous. Neither of those men exist anymore, and Loki can't say if he's happy or sad for the fact. All in all, he'd be happy if he never had to encounter any version of Barnes.

Loki knows what Barnes did to Anthony's parents. He knows how it much it hurt him, how much it still hurts him, but he also knows that Anthony knows that that was the Soldier, not Barnes. Anthony wishes to hate him, but, as he put it, he spent so much of his life harboring anger and revulsion and fear. He'll never forgive him for what his hands have done, but he can't blame him for it anymore. Not now that they're sharing a home and he can see that whatever Barnes used to be, before and after the fall, he's just as lost as he himself was after Afghanistan.

"If you go any further, you're gonna fall into another universe."  
Loki looks up from his lap and finds Barnes staring uncomfortably into a packet of peanuts. When he looks up, he tosses a cashew into his mouth, then wipes his hands against his thighs.

"Excuse me", Loki questions.  
Barnes just shakes his head. "I'm not gonna kill you if that's what you're worried about", he murmurs, tilting the packet up until peanut crumbs tumble into his mouth. "I've been rehabilitated."

Loki frowns. "That's-no, I'm not-I'm not worried about that."

Barnes crumbles the packet into a ball and shoves it into his pocket. A frown of his own mirroring Loki's, Barnes taps his foot against the floor and considers Loki for a moment. And doesn't say anything.

Parties. They're such dreadful things.

"Steve said you might be nervous", Barnes continues. "He knows you don't get out often." When all this does is make Loki frown and stare, Barnes lets out an airy laugh, shakes his head, and says, "No one, uh, no one really sees you leave your floor that much".

Loki nods. He finishes the last of his drink, swipes the back of his hand over mouth, and licks his lips. "Well, you've have to forgive me", Loki eventually explains, and Barnes's gaze realigns to his eyes. "I don't think I'd be too welcome."

Barnes snorts. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but this ain't exactly a league of saints."

"Trust me, I have. But I'm afraid it's a little more...extreme in my case." He picks a bottle off the table, stares down the neck, and and watches as the drink sloshes up and around the glass; given its tint, it's difficult to make out its color, but it's sweet enough for him to assume the wine's a white or blue. Midgardian drinks, they've never been enough to lower his inhibitions, and they rarely ever captivate his taste buds. But this drink is surprisingly satisfying.

He just wishes the occasion weren't so uncomfortable.

"Fury says your cover's gonna Thor's cousin", Barnes says, drawing him back into the conversation. "If anyone asks, 'Lila''s here comforting Thor after Thanos's attack and Loki's death. She'll be gone in a couple of months, after she figures Thor's gotten back on his feet."

It's not quite a lie. Change a few names around, ignore Loki's apparent death, and the cover's actually closer to the truth than Loki's comfortable with. He nods, then passes the bottle to Barnes.

"I've never been much of the comforting type", Loki admits; he sits up straighter and tosses one leg over the other, letting his hair drape over the left side of his face.

Barnes just shrugs. "You don't have to be." He jerks his head to the camera crew barging their way into the room. "They just have to believe it."

"Hey."

Loki turns to his left and finds Anthony leaning over the back of his couch. "Anthony", he says through a sigh. "Hi."

"Howdy." Anthony walks around the couch and takes a seat beside him; he reaches for the bottle on the table, but Loki interferes before he can, tucking it beside him so that it's out of his sight. But it's most definitely not out of mind. Anthony pulls and face and says, "Really?"

Loki gives him a pointed look, then turns his attention to the paparazzi storming towards them. In an instant, there's a flurry of bodies, cameras, flashing lights, and an overwhelming uproar of probing questions.

For all the years he's spent yearning for the throne, for reverence, Loki's never been one to favor crowds. At his feet, sure, but never surrounding him and especially not now that everything's happened has happened. He wants nothing more than to rise to his feet and walk, if need must, back to the Tower.

But Anthony's at his side, warm and sturdy, and Loki'd much rather be here, with him, surrounded by people he doesn't know rather than sitting in an empty Tower with only his loathsome thoughts to keep him company.

Loki draws an amicable smile and blinks innocently at his audience. "Hello, all", he greets, his voice coy and light. "I presume you have questions."

He sounds like himself. Or rather, he sounds like the man he was before his return to earth, before his second reinvention.

The questions come, unabashed, intrusive, and battering, and Loki answers them, delivering the carefully crafted answers he, Thor, and a holographic Fury had decided upon in the days leading up to this evening. He's gone over these words more times than he can remember; he knows them like he knows his magic, like he knows the golden patterns that will forever be etched into his body. But Loki's never had to say them in a way that would leave little room for doubt. He's never had to actually convince someone of them. Since his arrival back on earth, he's never had to rely on deceit so heavily, and, while it's not exactly a difficult task, it does leave him feeling unsteady, like the days just before acquiring an illness.

A woman in a black suit is asking him, Lila, about her involvement in the so-called Infinity War, and Loki's searching his brain for the answer when Anthony settles his hand over his own. As Loki goes to answer the woman's question, he finds his words steady, his cadence natural, and sees that he's appeared to have won over the crowd. They don't notice the hitch in his breath or the light blue skittering across his cheeks. For that matter, Anthony doesn't seem to notice either, and Loki's content to writing the matter off as an accident.

But later that night, when they're all pilling back into that hellish limo, the hand is back, brushing against the back of Loki's, and Anthony is staring dead-set into his eyes full of anything, everything, and nothing all at once. Then it's gone, and someone pushing Anthony to the front of the limo and Loki to the back. The stereo flicks on, a bottle of sparkling water gets popped open, and a less-than-sober Barton starts belting out a rendition of the English alphabet.

Anthony sends him a sheepish smile. Before Loki can respond, Rhodes is sprawling into Anthony's lap, and a head full of black hair is blocking him from Loki's sight. Rhodes whispers something to Anthony, prompting a full-belly, eye-crinkling laugh from him. Anthony shakes his head and rubs circles into Rhodes's back, then turns to face Banner, who's laughing in a similar manner.

Barnes passes the bottle of sparkling water to Loki, and he accepts it; he downs most of it, to the Widow's overt scrutiny, with just a few gulps, and something hot and furious burns in his stomach because it's not alcohol, not heavy enough to block out whatever the hell it is that so desperately feels the need to be blocked out.

He takes another sip, and the bottle goes empty.

And that's that.


	7. 7

_It's the screams that coax Loki into wakefulness._

_He's pressed against his rock, drooling rather inelegantly, when the sound pierces the air and meets his ears. His nose turns up, and he lifts a hand to wipe away the offending trail of saliva before turning to examine the cave. It's empty, as per usual, but Stark is a few feet away, screeching and flailing as he kicks up water, and that's not the usual._

_"Stark", Loki slurs, pushing himself off his rock. He tries to put some venom into the words, but it's enough of a struggle just getting them out, so he comes off sounding more annoyed than anything else. "Be...be quiet."_

_"No, no! Please." Stark rolls onto his side and crawls into the underside of the large stack of boulders at the center of the cave. His hands search the grounds until they grasp hold of a pile of rocks. "Stop!" He gathers the rocks in his lap, then begins tossing them about the cave, his eyes wild and unfocused._

_One of the rocks slams into the wall behind Loki's head, and it's only because he knows Stark has clearly been served a helping of whatever drug they're shoving into him that he doesn't immediately stalk across the room and snap his neck._

_Well. That and, you know, his missing sobriety._

_Oh, how he misses being lucid._

_"No! I can't, I-I can't, I just-"_  
_Right. He should probably do something about that._

_"Stark." With as much strength as he can muster, Loki crawls across the floor until he's staring down at Stark's fraught eyes. "Stark", he says, taking hold of his shoulders and giving him a rough shake. "Get a hold of yourself."_  
_Stark's eyes dart up to his, and, for a moment, Loki thinks he's gotten through to him. But it's in that same moment that Stark's expression contorts with mortification; he sits up and shoves Loki away, scrambling as far back into the cliff as the tough soil will allow._

_"Stop", Stark whispers, cradling his head in his hands. "Obie, please, just stop, I don't-I can't."_

_Loki frowns, lips forming to pose a question or a shout or an insult, but before he can, there's a rock sailing through the air. And because Loki's reflexes are about as useful a wicked wielding Mjölnir, he doesn't move fast enough to stop it from colliding with his cheek._

_It must speak wonders of how weak he's gotten if something that small, that insignificant, can draw a sharp cry from him._

_Stark looks up again, and some of the fog within his eyes appears to clear before the cloud of terror settles once more. He drops the rocks and curls in on himself, murmuring about reactors and Afghanistan and "you were my friend" and "was it all lies" and "just get it over with"._

_Loki's got a cut that's spitting out a streams of blood and a headache that's begging for him to lie down and sleep some more. His eyelids are heavy, and his body feels like it's been weighed down with lead. Sleeping sounds like a really nice idea, a really good idea._

_But Stark's being weird, and, even though he doesn't know who this Obadiah is, he's spouting a lot of nonsense that, nonsense or not, is familiar in a lot of ways Loki tries not to think about._

_"Just...just help...why won't you let me help, only wanna help."_

_Loki cocks his head to the side. He groans, then crawls back to Stark, removing his hands from his head and shoving them down to his sides. "Calm yourself", Loki murmurs; he's looking at Stark, and he's seeing himself, hiding in his closet and cowering as his brother tries to talk him down from a nightmare. Loki's never been on the other side of the conversation, but he's had it enough times to know how Thor usually goes about it. If Loki's veins weren't swimming in a drug that, by all means, should have killed him weeks ago, then he wouldn't even be considering this, but Stark's being too loud, and Loki doesn't like that look in his eyes, doesn't like how he can't seem to catch his breath, and this always seems to work when Thor does it, so_

_hugs._

_The panting, the screaming, the crying, they don't stop, but Stark does look up at him, looks into his eyes, and brings his arms out to wrap them around him. He presses his face into Loki's chest and breathes and wets the little fabric that remains of his shirt._

_"They were gone", Stark says shakily, and his arms tighten around Loki. "They were all gone, and it was just you. All I had was you, you and Rhodey. But I really didn't, did I?"_

_Something tugs in Loki's chest. He looks down at Stark, pulls a face, and awkwardly places a hand on his head. It's not how Thor does it, but he's...swirling, and comfort usually involves some form of physical contact, right?_

_"Um." He squints and purses his lips. "It'll be all right. He, er, Obadiah is gone now. Correct?" That's a reasonable assumption, isn't it? With his team of self-righteous asses, anyone unpleasant can't possibly remain a threat long without them getting involved. And this Obadiah, he must be quite unpleasant to leave Stark this unravelled._

_"He cared", Stark murmurs, his eyelids fluttering. "When almost nobody else did, he cared. He listened and-and said he understood, but he didn't. He just...just wanted my...my tech."_

_Thank the Norns, he's going under. It's just as well because Loki's not much better off. He rubs Stark's back and yawns. "Yes, but he's gone now, isn't he?"_

_Stark frowns into his chest. He looks up to stare at him, and Loki's not being literal when he says he can see himself in his eyes. "...yeah."_  
_"Okay. So that means he can't hurt you or lie to you or pretend to care about you anymore." Loki blinks, then leans his head back against the wall of rock behind him. If those drugs were hitting him before, they're definitely coming now. He allows his eyes to close and hums to himself. "All that's left to do now is...is get past it."_

_He wills himself to stay awake a little while long; if not to assure himself that Stark had heard the words, then to have the chance to remove himself from Stark's grasp before either of them returned to their wits. But those are snores, not sniffles, that's he's hearing, and Loki's rock is all the way on the other side of the pit._

_He should move. Given Stark's reaction to Thanos's drug, it's only reasonable that he won't be given more of it. Loki, of course, will probably die before they stop pumping him full of the burning liquid, so he'll still be a drooling, floundering mess by the time Stark awakens, and he doubts the Midgardian will be too pleased to find himself in the arms of the man that once tossed him out a building._

_But the legarthy's coming too heavy now, and, these days, Loki's not too keen on putting up a fight. So the fatigue arrives, and Loki doesn't fight it; just allows it to settle over him and falls back to sleep with a whimpering mechanic clinging to him._

_A little while later, they're both awake and on either ends of the spectrum of sobriety. Stark is wandering the cave, talking to himself and searching for an exit that doesn't exist. Loki can't speak, can do little more than blink actually, so he just resigns himself to watching the strange, small man pacing about the pit in panic. He can't say for sure if Stark remembers their earlier encounter. But Loki can say that, even in his drugged beyond comprehension state, he notices Stark frequently turning to look at him with eyes no longer deluded but still very much filled with confusion._

_And Loki'll never admit it, but, on occasion, he also finds himself looking back at him._

_Who was Obadiah?_


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Tony are getting a little too close for Loki's comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, I know my schedule's been kinda off lately, but I plan to get back on track. Thanks for still reading!

He's in the Main Floor's kitchen when he first notices it.

Rogers and Barnes are making breakfast, and several other members of the Team are ducking in and out, waiting impatiently for the announcement of their flapjacks. Loki already has his serving and so does Anthony. But Banner doesn't, and Anthony wants to wait for him.

Loki stabs a piece of pancake off his plate and into his mouth. His stack is absolutely flooded with syrup, but he finds he's never tasted anything quite so bitter.

"Bruce and I are going to a conference", Anthony mumbles around a mouthful of pancake.

"Right." He spins his fork around his plate, careful not to press so deep as to draw the eyes of the others. "The Sparklet and Revine Conference in Chicago, correct?"

"Uh huh. Technically." He takes several gulps of his orange juice, then sets it down on the counter behind them. "Mm. Technically, it was invite only, and old Sparky and Revine aren't exactly friends of mine. But they like Bruce and-"  
"And Bruce likes you."  
Anthony nods and swallows. "Uh huh. He put in a good word for me, and now I get first look at some of next year's biggest tech and engineering. Plus, there's the deep-dish pizza so."  
Loki places his plate down besides Anthony's cup and folds his arms over his chest. He looks over to where Banner stands beside beside the Widow as she loads his plate full of blueberries. Banner. Even excluding the doctor's alternate persona, Loki finds him to be a peculiar man. Nothing that screams extraordinary but from the way Anthony speaks of him, you'd think he more than the quiet, lonesome man that he was.

But no. Banner is an exceptional being, so exceptional that Anthony has been spending quite a bit of his time in his presence.  
"Loki?"

Fingers appear in front of him to snap, drawing his attention back to Anthony, who's watching him with a frown. "I'm sorry", Loki murmurs, turning to properly face him. "I must have drifted off. You were saying something about pizza."

Anthony just continues frowning. Lang dances past them, slipping two more flapjacks onto Anthony's plate and shoving a carton of yogurt into Loki's hand. Anthony sets his plate aside, then considers Loki with a transparent concern defining his expression. "Hey." He grabs his forearm and raises an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." He looks across the room to Banner, then back to Loki; the concern is still there, but now it's accompanied by a guilt that Loki's eager to put to rest. "I could call off the conference and-"  
"No, no, don't do that." After all Anthony's done for him, asking him to forgo attending a conference he's been anticipating for months? And all because he's feeling a little insecure in their relationship? It's beyond selfish, not to mention childish. Anthony doesn't deserve that. Loki forces a smile to his face and places a hand over where Anthony's sits to give it a firm squeeze. "I'm just feeling a little under the weather I'm afraid. I'll be fine."

Anthony keeps looking at him. "Are you sure?", he asks; he hasn't moved his hand yet.

"Tony", Banner calls out, and Loki barely suppresses a flinch. "You good on juice?"  
Anthony smiles and picks up his half empty glass to show it to him. "Good to go, doc." Then he turns back to Loki, who's somehow managed to maintain his own smile, even if it has gone a little tight.

"I'm certain", Loki assures, and breakfast passes with little event.

It's the second time, and a few weeks have passed, with the Team sitting at a bar in Midtown Manhattan. A bar, interestingly enough, full of bartenders dressed in bunny costumes. The drinks still aren't strong enough, but they're hot and bitter enough to combat the livid cold twitching to leap from his fingertips as Loki watches Anthony and Banner talk to one another in a private booth.

Loki knows of Anthony's reputation. Shortly after their arrival on earth, he made it perfectly clear that special may their relationship be, it wasn't the kind he knew Loki was yearning for. Of course, that was months ago, and, in that time, Anthony hasn't so much as looked at another person the way he sometimes looks at Loki, but he's always known. If it's not the internet and the tabloids, then it's the Avengers, always finding some story or another to tell of Anthony's past escapades. And in that time, Loki had, on occasion, heard of those escapades overlapping with the Avengers themselves, but he'd thought, maybe, just maybe, he and Anthony were becoming more than that.

Obviously, that isn't the case.

"Hey, babe."

The woman behind the bar, donning a pair of sparkly, blue bunny ears, smiles, leans over the counter, and gives the dozen or so empty glasses around him an impressed gaze. "Ah", she says, swiping her tongue across her lips. "Badass and able to hold her liquor? Whoever's got you so down tonight, I've gotta say, they're missing out on quite a catch."

Loki blinks and turns to the bottle at the woman's side. She catches his gaze and pours him another shot, her eyes wide as he quickly downs it and makes a "gimme" motion with his hands. He finishes this one just as fast, then reaches into his pocket and slips a fifty across the counter.

"Another", he murmurs, then, narrowing his eyes, says, "And I am not 'down'".

"Sure." The woman smirks and gives him a wink before standing and leaving to find another bottle. "Be back in a flash, sugar."

Before she's disappeared into the back, someone's slipping into the seat beside him and pushing a glass of something red his way. Loki turns to his right and finds the Widow sitting beside him.

"Lila", she says, taking a sip of her own drink. "So good to see you."

Loki glares at the offered glass. "I'm in no mood for quarrel tonight, Romanoff. Please, leave me be."

"Mm." She sips at her drink and gives him a pointed look. "Like you're letting Tony be?"

He can feel the blue dusting across his cheeks even before his wine freezes solid. The Widow eyes it curiously, then turns them back onto Loki, waiting, it seems, for an explanation.

"What do you want of me", he growls, staring at the glass until it gradually, slowly, melts back into a liquid.

The Widow taps her nail against the side of her glass. She watches as the bunny-eared woman returns to the bar. The woman pours Loki two more glasses, then looks to the Widow, and says "Keep an eye on her, okay, hon?"

The Widow flashes her a smile. "Oh, I will." Once the woman's left, she turns back to Loki and abandons her smile in favor of a solemn expression. "What do I want", she repeats, leaning closer to him. "I'll tell you what I don't want. I don't want to see my friend get hurt by a man who has no intention of sticking around."  
Loki's lips quirk up in a sardonic smile. He downs another glass, then turns to fully face the Widow; he's got his thumb kept underneath his chin and his ring finger leaning against his temple. The Widow's just sitting there, calmly sipping her drink, as a storm roils within Loki's depths. He uses his free hand to grab the other glass and shakes his head. "Use that intellect I keep hearing about", Loki advises her. "And you'll find it's quite the other way around."

Okay. Midgardian drink can't get him drunk. But it can, apparently, make him a little loose-lipped. After twenty or so glasses of their stronger brews.

Beside him, the Widow's gone quiet; she's still watching him, the way she always is, cold, calculating, curious. But there's something else there now. Not necessarily compassion but perhaps an inkling of understanding.

"Oh", she says. And that's all she says. For a minute, she just sits there, watching as if that alone will provide her answers. Then, once Loki's gotten to be quite uncomfortable, the Widow looks up from her glass and asks, "What happened up there?"

In a lot of ways, it's worse than her previous line of questioning. That question, it's one he's hesitant to discuss even with Anthony, and he lived it with him. Because in that pit, in that prison, everything that happened was only able to happen because of the past; his decisions and his errors and his hubris, they all lead him to that horrid pit and all that came of it.

What happened up there? Everything he ever wanted.

"We were captured", Loki eventually brings himself to say. "And we escaped. That's all."

The Widow looks at him, her expression unamused but, beneath that, there's a wariness, as if she's holding back. She takes another sip of her drink, then waves down another bartender, this one a man with purple bunny attire, and orders them both a scotch and a soda. "You care about him."  
"Yes."  
"And." She sighs, as if saying the words are enough to leave her weary and exhausted. "It's obvious he cares about you."  
At this, Loki pulls a face; the bartender pushes them their drinks, and Loki's quick to take his glass and tip it back. "Well, I'm pleased it's clear to you."

What little iciness in the Widow's face remained drizzles away. Alongside the sympathy, there rests confusion; like Loki's response bears little in the way of sense. "I've seen you two. I've seen the way he looks at you. Trust me, that's not the way he looks at just anyone."

Loki scoffs into his glass; once he's sipped it clean, he looks up at the bar and, upon finding the bunny woman to be missing, cautiously reaches out and accepts the glass the Widow had initially brought. He gets halfway through it before allowing himself to think on the Widow's words. In the mirrors on the back of the bar, he can see Anthony and Banners sitting in their little booth, both pleasantly sober, as they grin and cackle at some story or another. Turning so that his hair's blocking the image, Loki tightens his grip around his glass and murmurs, "You must see differently than I".

The Widow follows his line of sight and winces; she starts to reach for his forearm, but this just prompts a flinch of his own. She frowns, pulls her hand to her chest, and looks away.

Around them, the lively chatter of the bar and the thumping music continues, jovial and light-hearted as always. Somewhere, someone's laughing, and, somewhere else, someone's shrieking as their boyfriend grabs them by the waist and tosses them into the air. Loki wouldn't necessarily say he's bitter, but seeing so many people so happy when he's so "down" isn't exactly the best feeling in the world.

"Talk to him", the Widow says before standing, dropping a few twenties on the countertop, and pushing her chair back underneath the bar. Her eyes dart to the mirror, then back to Loki. "He might surprise you." Then she turns and allows the crowd of people to swallow her whole.

Loki turns back in his seat and looks into the mirror. He can see Anthony watching Banner, his eyes soft yet alight in that way that means the conversation's somehow involved in technology. Alight in that way they often are whenever Banner enters the room.

Loki spits the remainder of his drink back into his cup and stands from the bar.

Another week has passed, and it finds Loki having just stepped out of the shower; he's got a towel wrapped around his waist and his head, and he's reaching for his favorite bottle of lotion when his cellular device chirps. He hums, tightens his waist towel, and leaves the bathroom to retrieve his phone off his bed. Across the screen, there's the notification of an incoming video chat. Upon seeing that it's from Anthony, Loki gulps and allows his towel to dip as he sits on his bed.

If his skin flickers blue and the room temperature takes a nosedive, it's a totally unrelated matter. He's still in recovery afterall.

Loki accepts the chat, and Anthony's face floods his screen. Thankfully, the Doctor is nowhere to be seen.

"Anthony", Loki says with a too-big smile. "Hi!"

Anthony raises his eyebrows but gives him a smile of his own. "Hey, Lokes. Happy to see me?"

 _Always_ , Loki thinks. Instead, he just rolls his eyes and drawls, "Oh, but of course. I was just dying to hear from you, Anthony, as always".

He snickers and shakes his head. "Yeah, I can see that. That's a nice set of towels you got there."

Right. Probably should have gotten dressed.

Loki groans, tosses his phone onto the bed, and walks to one of his wardrobe to find something to wear. "They're your towels, Anthony." His cheeks have gone blue again, and his eyes are flickering between green and red. He pulls a pair of joggers and some boxers out of his drawer and narrows his eyes. "Did you need something", he calls out, shrugging into the bottoms.

"Yeah. Well, no. I mean, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out tonight."

Loki's fingers pause as they're tying the string of his pants. He blinks, walks back to his bed, and picks up his phone. "Tonight?"

"Yeah." Anthony scratches the back of his head and bites his lip. "I know I've been kind of busy lately. I was thinking we could do something, just you and me."  
Loki pulls his towel from his head. His hair tumbles in damp curls, and droplets of water cascade down his neck and chest; he presses his towel to the water and grits his teeth as his grip on his glamour falters once more. "Just you and me", he repeats, and he knows how awestruck he must sound.

Anthony blushes. He smiles and nods his head. "Just you and me", he confirms shyly. "I'll make spaghetti."

"You don't cook."  
"For you, I could."

And he does. Lots of it, actually. The pasta's practically dripping with sauce, and it's rich with garlic and pepper, just the way he'd described it to Loki in the pit. Anthony's words don't do it justice, and neither do Loki's. He tries, but most of it just comes out as pleased moans, closed eyes, and half-spoken sentences.

Across the table from him, Anthony sits, forking together a wad of pasta as he watches in amusement. "Enjoying yourself", he questions with a smirk.

Loki covers his hand with his mouth and smiles back. "Mm. Immensely."

Anthony slurps up several strands of spaghetti, splattering both his face and the table with spots of red. He catches Loki watching and grins wide, laughing when the mess garners a snort from Loki. "So I did good?"

"Yes." Loki grabs his glass of lemonade and lifts it to him. He doesn't bother disguising his blush. "You did wonderful."

Anthony raises his as well, and they reach across the table to clink them together. Their drinks slosh over the sides of their glasses, and they both giggle, watching as the sleeves of their shirts turn dark from the lemonade.

This is nice. The past month's been a pain in ways that, after the pit, he hadn't considered possible. But they've made it back here. And from the looks of it, they're farther along than they've ever been.

"You're smiling", Anthony notes as he lifts his plate off the table and begins scraping the sauce into his mouth.

Loki forks some more spaghetti into his mouth. "You make me smile", he replies softly.

Anthony presses his lips together to suppress his own smile. He licks his lips clear of all sauce and looks up at Loki. He's glowing. "I'm glad we're doing this."

"And I as well, Anthony." Something warm and pleasant settles in his stomach and entices him to reach across the table and place his hand over Anthony's. Anthony looks down at it, then up at him, his entire face and neck a deep shade of red.

Loki misses this. In a way, he almost misses the pit. At least there, he didn't have to worry about competing for his attention or pretending to be someone he isn't. Now, there are others and responsibilities, and Loki's left scrambling for moments like these like a dog begging for scraps of food.

"Loki." Anthony squeezes his hand and inhales.

He blinks and meets his eye. "Yes?"

"I-"  
"Tony!"

Banner bursts into the room. He cocks his head at the scene before him, then shakes his head and says, "We've got a situation on the Hudson".

Slipping his hand away from Loki's, Anthony closes his face and rises from the table. "What, is it another plane?"

"No. An owl."  
"An owl?"

Banner just shrugs, then turns and takes off down the corridor.

Anthony sighs and places his hands on his hips. He takes one look at Loki, and the frustration turns to worry. He crouches at his side and grabs Loki's forearm. "Hey. What-"  
"We should get going", Loki says, his focus on keeping his breathing levelled. "We'll need a debriefing."

Anthony frowns. "Loki. Come on."

Loki snatches his arm away and opens a portal to his room. He looks Anthony in the eye and says, "Your Doctor's awaiting".

Anthony's frown deepens. He crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs. "Yeah, he is."

The backs of Loki's eyes sting. He blinks, purses his lips, and looks Anthony up and down. "You have a courtship. Don't you?"

"It's not like that."  
"Really?" Loki laughs bitterly and tosses his arms out at his sides. "Is that what you tell him about us?"

"Don't do that." Anthony's earpiece beeps. With the swipe of his hand past his ear, the device falls silent; it doesn't silence the sound of Loki's beeping watch, but the action seems to regain Anthony's attention because the frustration in his eyes has grown a tenfold. "When we first came back, I told you-"  
"That our courtship was over and that we were to remain friends", Loki finishes through gritted teeth. "Then what the hell is this?" He gestures to the candlelit dinner, the warm overhead lights, the radio playing Frank Sinatra. "If we aren't courting, then what the hell is this?" Tears well up in his eyes, and he looks up, covering his face with his hands as he chokes out, "Please, just tell me so I can know".

Across from him, Anthony looks away and closes his eyes. "I don't know."

Loki bites clear through his lip; blood spills over his teeth and onto his tongue. He drops his hands, inhales shakily, and looks at the table, where, just minutes ago, they'd sat having a lovely meal. Of course, it didn't last. When does it ever?

"Then you need to figure it out."

Before Anthony can respond, Loki's turned around and stepped through his portal. He can hear Anthony's protests, but by then, Loki's already mended the tear and closed the portal.

The temperature drop and the flicker from before were nothing. Loki's only been in the room for a moment when giant shards of ice begin jutting from all sections of the room; his form flickers back and forward between his Jotun and his Asgardian forms before eventually settling on the former.

"Mr. Laufeyson", J.A.R.V.I.S. says, again with the concern. "I'm sorry to bother you, but your presence is requested alongside the Team in the Quinjet."  
"Voice", Loki growls, clenching his fists. "It would be wise to leave me be."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I really must insist. There is an owl on the Hudson River, and your powers really would be of service."

Loki shakes his head. The lamp above him shatters and rains down a shower of broken glass. "I'd really just like to stay home if it's all the same with everyone else", he says in a quieter voice; he wraps his arms around himself and tucks his chin into his shoulder. "I'd rather be alone right now."

He's being ridiculous. He doesn't need to be a genius to know that. Distressed or not, he's made a commitment to this whole Avenging circus, and he can't just pull out of it whenever he has...domestic issues.

Loki snatches off his tie and tosses it to the floor. He brushes his hands through his hair until the style he spent two hours on dissolves into a mess of sloppy curls. He fingers the silvery, elastic band on his wrist and forces himself to breathe.

Damn it. Why does it always come back here?

"Sir?" The Voice comes back to him, and, for that, Loki is grateful. It gives him something to focus on.

"Yes."

"What would you like to do?"


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki talks to Bucky and realizes they have more in common than he previously realized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! This one's going out early cuz I'm going to a pride parade tomorrow (my first one!), so I won't be home to upload this. I hope it's a good one and have a good weekend!

Obviously, it's not a regular owl.

It's an owl the size of a city block, and it's feathers are a soft black, shimmering as the beast lifts its wings and swipes, sending splintering winds throughout the city. No one knows where it came from or who sent it, but it's got New York in a panic, and someone needs to answer the call.

It's Loki's third sanctioned mission with the Avengers. If the circumstances were better, he might be anxious. But as it stands, Anthony's sitting at his side, and he hasn't so much as spared a glance his way.

Well, then.

The Quinjet is quiet; it's not unlike the quiet in that limo all those weeks ago. He can feel the eyes on him, eyes so heavy with judgement or suspicion or nothing at all because they aren't looking. It's beyond frustrating. He's spent months of "flying under the radar" and being pleasant, and now that he's gone and put Anthony in a mood, it's as if all his efforts were for naught.

It's a poetic justice, he supposes. The one time he's actually innocent, he's treated like a criminal.

"Steve, Sam", Anthony says, rising to his feet. The docking platform opens, and he starts walking towards it. "You're with me. Scott, Nat, Rhodey, take the BM Bridge, make sure everybody gets off, and nobody gets on. Vision, meet up with Pietro, he's on evac for marinecraft. Bucky and Wanda…" His helmet crawls up and over his head, and he hops into the air, his flight supported by his repulsor nodes. "Stick with Loki." And with that, he turns and flies out of the Jet; in seconds, the rest of the Team takes off after him, clinging to one flying Avenger or another. Soon enough, it's just Loki, Wanda, and Barnes and the everpresent AI watching over them.

Because why wouldn't they need supervision?

Wanda pulls open a portal and steps through, murmuring about catching up with them later before closing the rift once more.

"There's a rooftop coming up", Barnes murmurs, turning his eyes from where she'd disappeared. "We should get going." He hovers by the platform, waits until Loki sighs and walks over to him. After a moment, they both jump.

"What are we doing", Loki asks as they storm down a fire escape.

"Damage control. Owl's kicking up a lot of dust apparently."

Loki scoffs. The staircase ends, and they find themselves standing in an alley; they begin walking down the narrow, empty passageway before turning onto the streets, watching as their fellow citizens seek shelter. He scowls, summons his magic to the surface, and inhales. "We are both men with exceptional skills." A dumpster comes barrelling down the street; he raises a hand, twirls his finger, and releases his breath. The dumpster comes to an abrupt halt, and, with apt concentration, it rises and relocates itself into the alley. "We should not be handling cleanup."

Barnes raises his eyebrows. "Believe me", he says as he scoops up an errant awning blowing down the street. "I ain't exactly thrilled to be on shit detail. But it ain't without reason. We're not the most trustworthy of slooths."  
"If that's the case, then why isn't the Doctor here", Loki growls, and the fire hydrant beside them explodes into ice crystals. His hands clench at his sides. There's no Tower now to keep his form a secret. He can't afford for that to get out, and, more importantly, neither can Lila.

"So this is about Bruce." Barnes tosses his awning aside and takes a seat on the curb. He pats the space beside him, scooting aside when Loki reluctantly joins him.

"I don't know what you're talking about", he murmurs. Ahead of him, he can see Anthony clinging to Banner's back as the green beast launches itself at the Owl. He pulls a face, then turns his attention to the sudden bolt of lightning jerking throughout the sky.

"I may not be a mad scientist or a wizard", Banner begins, smirking when he sees Loki frown. "But I know green when I see it."

Loki's frown thins out into a perplexed expression. He looks down at his emerald jumpsuit and his verdant nail polish, then looks back to Barnes. "Yes. And so do I. Because I was once a child and was taught my colors."

Barnes rolls his eyes. A stream of lightning bolts down the street, followed by Vision as he's tossed into a billboard across the street from them. Barnes waves, then turns back to Loki. "I'm not talkin' about colors, jackass. I'm talking about feelings. Or are you still pretending like you don't have those?"

"Ha." Loki pulls a sneer. "I'll have you know, mortal, I happen to be an expert on emotions. As it stands, I found myself becoming acquainted with them just yesterday. And." He tilts his head to the side. "Thirty or so minutes ago."  
"Right." Something explodes behind them. "And that's got nothing to do with Bruce?"

He purses his lips. "Don't speak of things you don't understand."

Barnes looks away, to the skyline before them. Rogers and Wilson are battling mini owls on the rooftops, which looks about as ridiculous as it sounds. Either way, Barnes seems to draw some amusement from it, watching the two with a smile that's both fond and sad. "What makes you think I don't?"

Loki remains watching the rooftop, as puzzled now as he was before. It's only when the smile and the everpresent worry and the way Barnes always seems to be watching Wilson and Rogers connect does the confusion fade and something akin to empathy disperses through him. "Oh", he says. He then scrunches up his face, turns to him, and whispers, "The Captain?"

Barnes laughs. He shakes his head and stares at Rogers, still watching with that sad, fond smile of his. "I know he's got his, uh, moments. But he's a...he's a real swell guy."

"I must warn you, Barnes, if you continue, I just might vomit."  
He rolls his eyes. "Are you not the guy who threatened to rip another guy apart, atom by atom, just because he was flirting with Stark?"

Loki blushes. He stands and huffs. "He was carrying a bomb."  
"Mm". Barnes nods. "But we didn't know that 'til after."

The Owl shrieks. Anthony and Thor circle around it, firing plasma blasts and lightning bolts at it. In the midst of his many revolutions, Anthony's head turns in what Loki could swear is his direction. Something in his chest tugs; his shoulders sloop, and he frowns, thinking back to just how nice the evening could have been if they hadn't been interrupted.

"You're sweet on him."

Loki closes his eyes. He fumbles with his bracelet and lets out a bitter laugh. "Does the whole Team know?"

"Only those who know what they're looking at."

For a moment, neither says anything. They just remain as they are, staring out at the men with a frustrating love that neither can fully comprehend, knowing that they're likely to escape their battle intact but still hoping against all hope that nothing unbecoming happens to them.

It's been a long time since Loki's felt this way before. But in all the times that he's loved and almost loved, he's never had someone who understands how it feels when that love is unwanted.

"Your Captain", Loki says in a low voice. "Does he trust you?"  
"Yeah." His smile widens, and this one doesn't seem quite as sad. He stands and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Amazing as that is, yeah, he does." His eyes leave Rogers and Wilson to look over the remaining Avengers. "It's the others I gotta work on."  
Loki looks over at him. He looks at Bucky, and he feels...comfortable. "Perhap you do understand."

Bucky turns from the fighting to face Loki. Around them, the Avengers continue in their respective battles, explosions and shrieks blossoming throughout the city. Loki breathes, and, in an instant, he and Bucky are in each other's spaces; he balls Bucky's shirt in his fist and slams their lips together.

It's not enough. It's not Anthony, and the thought sends a tendril of rage throughout him because he has, indeed, been ruined for anyone else. Bucky kisses him back, his eyes open, staring, pained, and Loki knows the sentiment is shared. Bucky bites his lip, and his wound from earlier opens once more, spilling a torrent of blood into their mouths.

When they separate, a trail of red saliva keeps their lips connected. They're panting; Loki's face is wet, and Bucky's is red. Their eyes are wide, pupils dilated, unseeing. Bucky places a hand over Loki's and squeezes, blinking as his gaze goes back to Rogers on the rooftop.

Anthony.

Loki inhales, shakes his head, and pulls away at the same time as Bucky does. They stare at each other, breathless, and just stand there. Then, still painfully aware of the danger their beloved's face, they turn and go back to work.

. . .

"Me and Bruce; we were...sleeping together."

Loki is in Anthony's bed. They're sitting face-to-face, their legs a crossed and tangled mess. Their foreheads are pressed against one another, and their eyes are closed. Loki takes Anthony's hands in his own and brushes his thumbs over the backs of them. Sitting this close, he can smell the alcohol on Anthony's breath; they'll have to talk about that later, but, for now, he's content to just stay here in his embrace.

"I kissed Bucky."

Anthony nods against him. "Okay."

Loki nods back. "Okay."

And that's that.


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Tony report into notSHIELD for a debriefing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So, holy shit, I know this is early, but I forgot that this is Fourth of July weekend and that I have plans. Imma be busy and won't really have the time to post shit, so here's this week update. Lemme know what you think and stay safe and happy, wherever yall are!

They’re expecting a report. 

In all honesty, Loki’s surprised they’ve waited this long. In the months that he’s been on friendly terms with notS.H.I.E.L.D., one thing he’s picked up is that they’re very particular; if something happens, they want to know about it , and they don’t want any details spared. In all this time, there have been no official requests for debriefings on their time with Thanos. It was only a matter of time before it came, and, when it did, he was not the least bit surprised. 

“What do we tell them”, Loki sighs, fidgeting with his tie. He turns to the mirror and scoffs. “I can barely remember all that happened, and I know you see no comfort in discussing it-”   
“Hey.” Anthony looks up from his own tie and gives him a pointed look. “We don’t have to tell them anything.”   
Loki shakes his head. “These people have given me a second chance.”   
“That doesn’t mean you owe them your mind.” When Loki doesn’t answer, Anthony sighs, rises from the bed, and joins him at the mirror. There’s a space between them, as there often is these days. Things have definitely changed between them. Somedays for the better and others for the worse. On days like this, when one goes to lean into the other, only to suddenly rear back and put a mile’s worth of space between them, it’s for the worse. 

“Are you listening to me?” Anthony gives his shoulder a shake and frowns. 

Loki turns from the mirror to look over at him. He smiles, relishing in the comfort of Anthony’s touch, and shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry”, he says, then turns and walks over to his dresser, where an array of nail polishes rest. Seafoam green, his least favorite of the greens, and spotted black are all that remains. He picks up the latter, hops onto the dresser, and begins to paint his nails. 

Anthony sits beside him and watches, his eyes darting between Loki’s hands and his eyes. “So”, he says after a moment. “It’s Loki tonight. Right?” Loki looks up. Anthony gestures to the clock and offers a smile. “Lila’s on vacation in Monte Carlo?”

Loki rolls his eyes. He turns his attention back to his hands. “I’m not particularly fond of Miss Lila”, he explains as he drags his brush against a nail. “If her presence is not required, I’d rather just arrive as myself.”

“Really? I mean.” He holds his hands out and shakes his head. “Not that you aren’t a dashing devil yourself but I figured…” He shrugs, then leans back against the wall. “I dunno. I kinda figured you liked being her.”

“I suppose.” Loki shakes up his bottle and tosses it towards the bed, guiding it through the air before swiping his fingers up and down. “But I…” He bites his lip and turns his gaze to the ceiling fan. “I’ve spent my whole life wearing the face of another and not feeling like I belong. Being Lila, it brings that all back. Only, it’s worse because I know it’s not real, but I have to maintain the facade.” He allows his hands to fall between his legs. “If I’m going to do this, it’s going to be as I’ve been since Odin brought me to Asgard; it’s going to be in the skin I feel most like myself.”

Anthony places his hand beside his. “What about your other skin”, he asks softly, the wrinkles around his eyes becoming prominent as he sees Loki wince.

“Never.”

“Okay.” He brushes his finger up against Loki’s and nods. “That’s okay.”

Loki takes in a breath. He stands from the dresser, places his arms over his head, and closes his eyes. eserves it”, he says; he lifts his hand, and Mordecai takes off out the door and down the hall. 

“You’re too hard on yourself”, Anthony murmurs, and, aside from him complimenting Loki’s nails, neither says anything more after that. 

A black car pulls up in front of the Tower a little while after that. The windows are tinted, which Loki can’t necessarily say he’s comfortable with. But it’s a short ride, and he and Anthony are talking again, so it doesn’t bug him nearly as much as it should. After that, the stuffy men up front guide them into what appears to be an abandoned warehouse but is actually a pristine establishment with glistening, white walls and employees in grey uniforms. 

“I thought you said notS.H.I.E.L.D. was...reformed”, Loki whispers, drawing closer and closer to Anthony as they delve deeper into the base. 

Anthony just shrugs. “Better”, he corrects. “Not good. Trust me, this way better. Not as easy to keep secrets.” Loki keeps staring at the walls and cameras. Anthony purses his lips; he looks back to the men ahead of them, never once faltering in his step. “Don’t let it intimidate you. It looks worse than it is.”

Loki shoves his hands into his pockets. “I think it’s them you need to worry about”, he says, miraculously willing a smile to his face. “I’ve been here for months, and this is the first time they’ve requested my audience.”

Anthony chuckles. “Maybe they’re just shy.”

Obviously not. If that were the case, they wouldn’t be there, about to disclose fifteen canyons worth of trauma. 

Loki grits his teeth. He brushes his hand through the air in pursuit of Anthony’s and is almost surprised to find Anthony already reaching out with trembling fingers to grab hold of him. 

They enter the room that way; shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand. The men and women at the table all look up and zero in on their hands 

“What was that you were saying about intimidation”, Loki murmurs, taking a seat at the end of the table.

“Ladies! Gentleman.” Anthony sits down beside him, beaming so bright it makes Loki’s face hurt. “Pleasure to see you all, as always.”

“Stark.” The Director taps his fingers against the table, the faintest hint of a smile upon his face. “Glad you could make it.” He then turns to Loki and nods. “Loki.”   
“Director.”

“All right.” Anthony pops his lips, then turns to look around the table. “So how we doing this? Hands raised for a question or is it a free-for-all?”

“I’m thinking free for all”, a woman says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Before Loki can send Anthony a worried look, she’s leaning across the table and staring into his eyes. “Mr. Odinson”, she begins, and Loki clenches his hands underneath the table. “What, if you don’t mind my asking, is your relationship with Thanos?”

Well. He wasn’t expecting that.

Loki scratches the back of his head and lets out a breathy laugh. “Um. Once upon a time, we, um, we were…” He inhales, then lets the air go in a short, choppy release. “Well, it’s a bit difficult to explain.”   
The woman smiles. She jots something down in the notebook before her, then looks back up and asks, “Okay. I’ll rephrase: how was it that you came to partner with him this time around?”   
Loki’s awkward attempt at an amicable expression dissolves into a scowl. As the woman continues scribbling away, he narrows his eyes and says, “I wouldn’t call it ‘partner’ so much as ‘prisoner’”.

“Uh huh.” She lifts her pen to twirl it beside her ear. “Semantics aside, do you think you could you answer my question?”

Loki looks away from the woman to take in the faces of the others seated at the table. The Director and Anthony, they’re the only ones he feels comfortable discussing this with, and that trust only applies to the former because of his relationship with Anthony. With everyone else, it’s clear just where their sentiments lie. He knew the meeting wouldn’t be easy, but, somehow, he figured there’d be less animosity.

Anthony slips his hand underneath the table and back into his, and his words from earlier come back to Loki. How this meeting was to be of benefit to both sides. notS.H.I.E.L.D. would have further information on Thanos, and Loki would have the opportunity to present himself in a sympathetic light. It won’t erase the past, but it could help proving his current allegiance.

“After falling from the Bifrost”, Loki states, turning back to the woman, who’s resumed writing in her notepad. “I was...alone. And lost. I’d recently learned of my true heritage and was in pursuit some direction.” He blinks and looks down at his wrist, where his silver band has sat since his early childhood. He traces a finger along its length and bites his lip. “Most of my alliances were of Asgard or Asgard’s companions, but there was one man I’d befriended that I knew I could turn to should I ever need guidance.”   
“Thanos”, Fury says, looking between he and Anthony.

Loki nods. “Yes. In our younger years, we engaged in a dalliance.”

The woman with the notepad looks up from the table. “A dalliance”, she repeats, her pen long forgotten. “You were dating.”

“Yes.”

The woman across Notepad Lady clears her throat; once she has Loki’s eyes, she huffs, shakes her head, and says, incredulous, “You dated a galactic terrorist?”

So much for “sympathy points”. Loki sits up further in his seat. “I was going through a difficult time in my life”, he says, trying to make his voice sound non-defensive. From the looks and the hand squeeze he gets, it’s probably not working. “He was strong, confident, sturdy.” He blinks, lowers his eyes, and when he resumes speaking, it’s in a softer voice. “And he wasn’t always a terrorist.” 

“Right.” The skeptic scoffs and leans against the back of her seat. “Because that makes it so much better.”

“Louise.” Fury lifts a hand, then turns his eyes onto Loki. “So you were dating. How did that lead to you two working together?”

Loki shrugs. “He took care of me”, he mutters. “When I quarreled with my father or needed a respite from home, I turned to him, and he asked no questions...He was kind to me, gratuitously so, and I wanted to earn my keep; he had a lot of affairs, and he needed someone to tend to them.”   
“Like a secretary”, Fury supplies, and Loki nods, his shoulders going lax with relief.

“Yes, like a secretary. The ‘universal balance’ and such?” He shakes his head. “That didn’t come until much later on. I wasn’t even aware of his goals until some time before my Fall. Perhaps, I didn’t want to know.”

Fury keeps looking at him, so he continues, choosing his words with scrutiny as he recalls that fateful day. “By then, his toils had long since turned from humanitarian efforts to more...nefarious means. Where he once provided aid to struggling populations, he began arguing for extermination. When no one listened, he turned to magic.” He bites his lip and averts his eyes to the shining surface of the table. “He turned to me.”

One of the men, doning what Anthony calls a Rolex, raises his eyebrows. “And you said ‘yes’?”   
Loki purses his lips. “He was all I had”, he responds cooly. “I’d’ve done anything for him.”

“But not for forever.” At the end of the table, a mouse of a woman with acid blue air looks up from her lap and cocks her head to the side. Everyone turns to her, but she retains her resolve, watching him with eyes that are not prying but curious. “You left him at some point. Right? That’s how you became his prisoner?”

“...yes. After escaping from Asgard, I took to the cosmos and stayed there until his minions eventually found me.”   
The blue mouse rubs a finger underneath her nose. “Why did you leave”, she questions, and all heads swivel back to Loki.

Why did he leave? As these people would tell it, Loki’s a madman yielding the secrets to terror. Surely, he should have been thrilled to level entire civilizations to dust with the mere snap of a finger. It doesn’t make sense that he would grow weary of all the death and the grief and the guilt, the pain, the sorrow. It doesn’t make sense that his conscience would grow so heavy that most days, getting out of bed had become an entirely new struggle in its own right. It doesn’t make sense that he would abandon the love of his life because he’d grown to fear him just as his experiments had. 

It doesn’t make sense. Loki doesn’t make sense. This meeting doesn’t make sense. To these people, Loki will always be the man that came to their home with the intent to destroy and to conquer. Nothing he says will ever make a difference. 

“Creative differences”, he eventually says, not meeting the eyes of the council.

Anthony squeezes his hand tighter. He lifts his other hand onto the table and says, “I think that’s enough on the rewind.”

Blue Mouse smiles and props her head up on her fists. “What would you rather talk about, Mr. Stark?”   
He points a finger at her and winks. “I like your spunk, kid. When you’re done with the matching greys, fill in an application for me.”   
She beams wide and starts to say something, but Fury lifts his hand and levels them both with smoldering looks. 

“Stark, this is not a recruitment office.” He stands from his seat and approaches the wall behind the table. With a light tap of his fingers, the wall shivers, and a crude map of the galaxy spreads along its length. “Now, from what you’ve told us, you two were held in this region”, Fury says, circling around a purplish quadrant of the map. It’s not a precise location, Loki can’t help but note, but it’s more sophisticated than he’d credit Midgardian tech with. “And this region, near as we can tell, is surrounded by an anomaly that keeps it in a constant state of atmospherical duress. No one without knowledge of this anomaly should be able to get in or out” He drops his hands on the table and exchanges looks between Loki and Anthony. “Care to explain how you two got out of there?”

“Well.” Anthony shrugs. “The old T-man had some ships on the ready for whenever he brought in new people, experiments, guards, sadists, whatever. When our, um, doctors came to check on us, I knocked ‘em out, and me and my pal here made a run for the shipyard.” He runs his finger along Loki’s palm and flashes the table members a grin. “Bing, bang, boom, we’re back kicking it earthside in a matter of weeks.”

Rolex smirks. “Bing, bang, boom.” He taps his fingers against the table, then says, “What did he do to you two?” As he’s saying this, his gaze slips over to Loki, where it lingers and smolders like the last burning coal of a fire. “And has it had any...lingering effects?”   
“‘Course it has. Wouldn’t be torture if it didn’t, am I right?”

Loki gives him a look, then turns back to the table. “He threw us in a pit for six months, where we frequently nearly drowned and starved to death. Anthony was often beaten, and I was drugged. Nothing else happened.”   
Rolex cocks an eyebrow. He looks to where Loki and Anthony’s arms disappear beneath the table and stares at Loki with distrusting eyes. “Really?”

“Really.”

Anthony presses against his shoulder. With his presence so close and the eyes on him, Loki feels, in more ways than one, like he’s back in Avenger Tower all over again, tiptoeing about a field of seashells. Of course, here, he can’t duck into a closet and wait until everyone’s gotten bored and shambled back to their floors. 

“Thanos has to know you’ve escaped by now”, says the Notepad Lady. “What’s he waiting for?”

Loki blinks. He looks up from his lap to stare at the lady. “What?”

She taps her pen against the table. “What’s he waiting for”, she repeats with a shrug. “I mean, he clearly has the knowledge and weaponry available to come back and wipe us off the galaxial maps. As you’ve stated before”, she continues, now pointing the pen his way. “You know him better than anyone else, so I’ll ask you again, Mr. Odinson: what’s taking him so long?”

It’s a good question. A question, actually, amazingly, that he hadn’t considered before.

Despite his meticulous planning and longstanding goals, Thanos has never been one for patience. He prefers to accomplish everything sooner rather than later; it’s why he so often turned to the drugs; always so eager to obtain information, even if it was done through means of torture. And just as Thanos is to Loki, Loki’s always been a sore spot for Thanos. He’d never allow Loki to abandon him, not after spending so many years attempting to lure him away from Asgard. Then there’s Anthony, who’d not only assisted in the Infinity War but had also broken Loki free of Thanos’s spell. Even if Loki and Anthony were able to escape, they should not have had this long a period of peace. 

What is he waiting for?

“Maybe an invitation”, Anthony offers, and this actually draws a few chuckles from around the table. “I mean, us Earthians, we are supposed to be polite, are we not?”

The Director rolls his eyes. “I think the point Lainey is making is we need to keep an eye out.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks over everyone in the room. “He came before we were ready last time. We can’t let that happen again. We can’t afford to let that happen again.” His eyes go to Loki’s, but Loki’s gone back to staring into his lap, and the Director’s words aren’t quite meeting his ears. 

What’s he waiting for?

. . .

“We’ll be ready this time”, Anthony says later that night. He grabs his shoulder, raises his eyebrows, and smiles. He’s aiming for comforting, but he looks about as comforted as Loki feels. 

Nevertheless, Loki wills a smile of his own to his face and nods. “Of course”, he agrees. “We have everything we need.”   
They’re here again. Face to face, with a doorframe separating them. How often have they found themselves at this crossroads, both wanting to pick the most desired path but too afraid to take the first step? Loki digs his nails into the frame and stares at him. 

_ Stay. _

_ Even if it is an illusion. _

He shakes his head and takes a step back. “I’ll see you in the morning, Anthony.”   
“See you tomorrow, Loki.”   
He closes the door and, a minute later, hears Anthony walking away. He presses his back to the door, then sinks to the floor and closes his eyes. The ceiling fan clicks and whirrs to life, kicking up dust as he breathes in and out and reminds himself that he is here, on earth, safe and happy.

“What am I doing”, he whispers to the room.

No one’s there to answer back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going for sympathetic with Loki. Am I getting it right?


	11. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in time, in the pit, Loki and Tony grow closer.

_"Wanna trade traumas?"_

_They're sitting on a rock. Stark's sitting across from him, licking the last of his mushy oats out of his first packet with obnoxious slurps and spitup. It makes Loki's stomach turn, but his stomach isn't exactly his best friend these days, so it's far from an unusual occasion._

_"Why would we do that", he asks, tossing his new packets into the growing pile in the corner._

_"Cause malnutrition's kicking in, and I can't think of anything better." His eyes go to Loki's pile before he turns his attention back to his packet of mush. "You really should start eating. Being immortal isn't gonna keep you from starving to death."_  
_As if on cue, a pain emerges and splinters behind his eyes; Loki winces, lifts a hand to press it against his temple, and inhales sharply. His stomach continues roiling, and he uses his free hand to wrap it around his waist as he looks back up to glare at Stark. "It wouldn't be of any good to me", he says in a strangled voice. "I can't keep anything down."_  
_Stark nods. "Thought their fire drug had run through you."_  
_"It has. But it's still very much affecting me." The pain travels down his spleen and to his stomach. Loki doubles over, hisses, and grits his teeth. Something nonexisting and burning clogs his ears and his windpipe, and he pants, just trying to breathe through it until the wave of agony passes. They've been getting worse; they've been lasting longer. In a way, it almost makes Loki miss the drugs; at least then, the pain was dulled, or he was so out of it that he didn't even realize he was in pain to begin with._

_"Hey. Hey, come on." Stark crawls across their rock to sit before him. He lifts a hand, and it stays there, aimless, until he asks, "Where's it hurt the most?"_

_Tears prick at Loki's eyes. "My stomach." Another jolt of fire unfurls, and he whimpers, leaning into Stark until they're both pressed firmly against the wall behind them._

_"Okay." His right hand joins his left in the air to meet at Loki's stomach. There, Stark presses softly and massages small circles into the taut skin. "Relax", Stark murmurs. "All this tension, it's making the pain worse."_

_"Since when...are you... a doctor?"_

_Stark rolls his eyes. He presses a bit deeper, and something warm passes between his fingers and the skin of Loki's stomach. Loki blinks and looks up at Stark._

_"Are you always this cold", Stark asks him, staring intensely at his stomach._

_"Why are your hands warm", Loki counters; he finds himself relaxing at his touch and leaning forward, humming as the hotpain begins to diminish._

_"I had something of an accident a few years back with a pyromaniac." He lays his hands down flat upon Loki's stomach and lifts them up and down. "I was able to get rid of most of it, for me and my... friend, but I guess whatever this drug is brought it back." He lifts his eyes then to meet Loki's gaze and stares, curiosity hidden deep within their depths. "I know I only had one shot of the bad juice", Stark says before turning back to Loki's stomach. "But why am I okay? Every time yours wears off, you get like this, but I've been more or less decent the whole time."_

_Loki grunts. He lets his head fall onto Stark's chest and licks his cracked lips. "If what you say is true, then there is fire in your blood. In mine, there is ice. I suppose it'd make for quite a contrast." Loki looks up at Stark, pulls a face, then says, "You mentioned something about trauma."_

_Stark raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"_

_Something shatters in his spine; he gasps, and, in an instant, Stark's reaching out to apply soothing warmth to the area. It's a strange thing. Like warm water being coaxed over a hot welding knife._

_But it's still not enough._

_"Tell me about yours", Loki says, his voice wobbly. "And I will tell you mine."_  
_"No need to get dirty", Stark replies, though there's no humor in his voice. He urges Loki to sit up, then crawls behind him, dragging his increasingly warm hands over Loki's body as the pain comes and goes. "Uh. There's kind of a lot." He chuckles and shakes his head. He continues in his ministrations, staring blankly ahead, until he begins speaking softly, more quiet than Loki has ever heard the engineer speak. "I was eight, and I snuck into my dad's office. My mom always told me to stay out cause I'd get in trouble, but the power was out that day, and she was sick; I wanted something to do, so I started fucking with some of his machines. One of them was undeveloped, and my tinkering fucked it up until the office and the house caught on fire." Stark's hands pause, and his voice catches in his throat. And just like that, the heat goes out in his hands. The pain returns, but Loki isn't paying attention. He's staring at his feet, listening, waiting until Stark can find it in himself to continue._

_"My old man", Stark whispers. "He tore me a new one that night. Mom got burnt pretty bad, and her already being sick just made it worse. And all his inventions, they went up in flames." His hands go to Loki's shoulders, gripping tightly as the heat trickles out and down Loki's body. "He said the fire was obviously a sign, that I was too much of a screw up to actually do anything worthwhile." Stark tucks his chin into the crook of Loki's shoulder and just stays there. "I didn't go back into his office after that. Not even after, when he offered to help me with my own tech."_

_It's raining again. Seems like that's all it ever does, really. For now, it's just drizzles, but in a few minutes, it'll be a downpour, and they'll have to crawl up what Stark has deemed Mufasa's Rock._

_"Where is your father now", Loki asks, now pressing his back into his chest._

_Stark just breathes. "Gone." The rain keeps coming down. He looks up to sky, to where the bars of the cage are, and stares. He doesn't move._

_"Stark."_

_"..."_

_"Stark?"_

_"..."_

_The rain continues and begins to gather, rising first to their ankles, then to their stomachs, then to their chests. Even with Stark's hands on him, Loki finds himself feeling cold. Of course, it's not much of a problem for him, but Stark is of Midgard. He won't survive a rain this cold._

_Without a word, Loki stands, turns around, and scoops Stark into his arms. His muscle mass is nonexistent, and his missing appetite makes the task more difficult than he would care to admit. But Loki summons all the strength in his frail body as he can and walks them over to Mufasa's Rock. He stumbles halfway through the climb, but, by then, they're far enough up that only Loki's legs are still submerged in water._

_Stark curls into a ball and begins to shiver. If Loki had anything more than strips of trousers, he'd offer him something to provide him warmth. But as it stands, they're both practically naked, the air is gelid, and the rain is an unrelenting presence that will remain for the next day at the least. There's nothing to offer. He has no body heat, but he still finds himself scooting closer to Stark, hoping that his presence will provide comfort if not heat._

_"Asgard was under attack, as it often was", Loki says. Stark looks up from the ground to meet his eye. Loki just shrugs, as if to say, "a deal's a deal". He lets his fingers drift down to his bracelet and twirl it about thoughtlessly, thinking back to that day, the day everything changed. "Prisoners were rioting, and everyone was scrambling to get things back in order. At first, I thought it humorous, exciting even; I figured amidst the chaos, I could slip away or at least enjoy watching the massacre." He hands go still, and he sucks in his lower lip as the image of a faceless guard arriving outside his cell comes to mind. "I hadn't yet known that my mother had been killed in that very chaos."_

_The rain keeps coming down. It rises up to his waist, but it never reaches Stark, who's craned his back to get a better look at him. Loki wraps his arms around his legs and presses his lips to his knees. "I was in prison when my mother died", he whispers. "And the last thing I ever said to her was, 'You are not my mother'"._

_Loki doesn't know why he thought of that. Admittedly, it has caused him quite a bit of grief and remorse, but he hasn't allowed himself to think about that day in years. Throughout his time, he's garnered an arsenal of trauma, most of which that, no matter how much he attempts to repress, clings to him even in his waking hours. His childhood, Odin's reveal, Thor, his failed attempt at Midgard, his affair with Thanos, his skin; he's lived through so many dreadful experiences and relationships, but his mother's demise, the one memory he was semi-successful in erasing, was what came to him._

_"I've said that before", Stark mutters. He uncurls himself and sits up, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the rain as he ponders the bars above. "Weird thing is, moms usually know you don't mean it."_  
_Loki narrows his eyes. "Horseshit."_  
_"Maybe", Stark admits with a shrug. "But sometimes, it's not." He looks to the water surrounding Loki and extends a hand to him. Loki stares at it for but a moment before grasping it and allowing himself to be pulled further up the Rock. And, in that second, they're there again, side by side, cuddling as the water continues to rise and thunder echoes in the distance._

_"Frigga", Loki says, and it still hurts to say it. "She was the only one who...who understood. She never laughed or got angry or stared as if I was the physical embodiment of 'wrong'. She just listened. And when I sought to pursue unbecoming hobbies, she helped and was as proud as she was of Thor succeeding in wielding a sword." He closes his eyes and presses his face into Stark's bare arm. "I never told her how much I appreciated that."_

_"I'm sure she knew." Lightning strikes above them, and a flash of pure white splashes across his face. He may be human, but with nature's light reflecting off of him and unalloyed stubbornness clear his futures, Loki could swear Stark was a god._

_He's crying. Loki doesn't remember the last time he's cried in front of someone else and felt so unashamed by the fact._

_"What is your name", Loki asks, and Stark doesn't hesitate in his answer._

_"Anthony. People call me Tony."_

_Anthony. What a nice name._

_Anthony lowers his arm to wrap it around him and sinks his head into his shoulder. He's still shivering. And with Loki this close, he's probably closer to death than before. Loki hasn't been able to perform magic in months, but he's able to summon just a small tendril of it to disperse heat into Anthony. It's a small act, one he's certain Anthony doesn't even register. But his teeth ceases in their chattering, and he leans closer to Loki, and damn if that doesn't just take Loki's breath away._

_He's always failed at providing comfort, and his heritage has always made him a cold, bitter being. And yet here he is, sending the man he once wished to kill both solace and warmth. Would've thought it?_

_Loki can feel Anthony staring at him. At first, he pretends he doesn't notice, figuring Anthony would be embarrassed to be caught in such an intense fixation. But the moment draws on long enough for Loki to realize Anthony wants him to see him watching. Slowly, Loki lowers his eyes and turns his head to meet Anthony's unwavering gaze._

_"What", he finds himself asking, unwilling to take the suspicion out of his voice. People never look at him for that long. Not unless they want or see something they don't like._

_But Anthony surprises him. At this point, though, that fact in and of itself is no longer surprising._

_"Nothing", Anthony says; he doesn't look away. He tucks the side of his face further into Loki's shoulder and keeps on looking. There's nothing insidious behind those auburns; curiosity, amazement, maybe but nothing of maldoing. "I just…" Anthony blinks and finally looks away to stare at a scab forming on his thigh. "I never knew someone like you could hurt like that."_

_Well, yeah. That's kind of the point of a facade. Keep everyone else unknowing and in suspense when you know perfectly well that you're just one misstep from spiralling and losing the little control you'd been grasping onto._

_"I'm tired", Loki says because nothing else quite does it justice. He thinks of the walls enclosing him and the inevitable return of their "caretakers" and his growing, silly attraction to Anthony, and he wants to lie down, curl into a ball, and never move. All of his running, all of his scheming, all of it, was for naught because he just got caught again. There's no reason to hope for escape because no matter what he does, Loki always winds up back here. By his own will or Thanos's hands or the Norns' cruel sense of humor, Loki will always come back to him._

_"Wanna get some sleep?"_

_Loki pulls Anthony closer. Around them, the water continues to rise, mini tidal waves lapping up and over their bodies as if in active pursuit of vengeance. Somewhere, in another cell, a prisoner's shouting, crying out for someone that might as well no longer exist. He closes his eyes, and, before he can stop himself, his hands are frantically scrambling for hold of Anthony's. Anthony doesn't let go, and neither does Loki._

_Eventually, they both drift off into sleep, shivering and whimpering as the storm continues to surge._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss them 😭😭😭.


	12. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Tony take a trip to San Francisco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, heads up, this is a weird one. I wrote this a couple months back in the middle of a really bad writing's block so yeah. Also, there's a small sex scenetowards the end; it doesn't last long but it's there and I don't usually write sex scenes so yeah. Also, I couldn't find a decent place to break this in half, so I didn't so  
> yeah. It's a weird one.

The weeks following their meeting see Anthony frequently leaving on business trips. Most, he reveals in his spare time, are of the Public Relations sort, but quite a few of them have to do with Stark Industries business. And while Loki knows Anthony finds the business aspect of the latter meetings to be tedious, he knows Anthony enjoys the community he often finds there. Of their roommates, only Banner and Vision truly understand his work, but even they aren't as immersed in it as he. So for all his moaning and griping, Loki can look at Anthony fumbling at his tie and smiling each time he looks at his watch and know just how excited he is for his upcoming trip to San Francisco.

It's nice to see him happy. After all that's happened, it's nice to see Anthony finding joy in his work, even if Loki doesn't always understand it.

Loki's making preparations for the week (he still hasn't finished the novel of Dr. Jekyll and Hide ((ironically, at Banner's recommendation)), and Bucky wants to introduce him to a new TV show) when one of Anthony's suits flies up to his window and waves.

Loki rolls his eyes, crawls out of bed, and walks over to the window, giving it a light tap before stepping back and allowing Anthony to fly into his room.

"I come bearing good news", Anthony says, stepping out of his suit. He's beaming, practically thumming with excitement, and, well, that could mean a lot of things.

"Ah." Loki folds his arms over his chest and sighs, a hint of a smile crawling to his face. "Would this 'good news' have anything to do with something of an explosive nature?"

"What? No!" Loki points to the exhaust lingering on his cheek, and Anthony giggles, brushing it off as he grabs him by his shoulders and leads him to the closet that he's never used. "Pack your bags", Anthony shouts, grabbing random articles of clothing and tossing them Loki's way. "We're going to San Francisco!"

Loki scoffs, bites down a smile, and shakes his head. "San Francisco ", he repeats in disbelief. "Anthony, I haven't even stepped outside these walls without it being a matter of notS.H.I.E.L.D. or some kind of mission."  
"Well." Anthony shrugs and tucks his hands into his pockets. "Maybe it's time we changed that. I think you've more than proven yourself."

Loki shifts the pile of clothes to the crook of his right arm. He doesn't need a mirror to know he's blushing. "I can't go to San Francisco", he says softly. He stares down at a shirt that says "Bacon For The Win!" and bites his lip. "I don't have clearance, and, even if I did, you know how everyone is about us doing things like this."

"You mean how everyone is about us doing anything?" Loki doesn't answer, so Anthony reaches out, takes the clothes from his arms, and tosses them onto the bed. He then grabs Loki by his shoulders and gives him a pointed look. "Lokes, people are gonna be pissed no matter what. Why not make the best of it?"  
Loki smiles and looks down at his feet. "Anthony. This is supposed to be your week. You should enjoy it."  
"You'd be there, Loki. I'm automatically going to enjoy it." He keeps on his smile. Doesn't backtrack, doesn't stutter, doesn't put a miles' distance between them like they've been doing for the past few weeks. His hands remain strong and sturdy on Loki's shoulders, and his eyes, forever alight with mischief and something dangerously close to love, are shining brighter than the Realm of Muspelheim.

"Come with me", Anthony says, and Loki nearly trips over himself in saying "Yes".

They're toeing the line. The very line that Loki, in his petulance, had solidified after the mess with Banner. The very line that's kept Loki from entertaining the ridiculous notion that he and Anthony could ever be more than what they are.

But, lately, Anthony's been different. More physical, more affectionate than he's ever been. Loki isn't sure what it all means. Perhaps it's the daunting reality that every day could be their last day together. Perhaps it's the Team's slowly but surely growing acceptance of Loki. Or perhaps it's just one of those things, those baffling, beautiful things, that just happen because of happenance.

Maybe Anthony's falling in love.

Loki narrows his eyes. It's a business trip, for goodness's sake. He's overthinking this.

Right?

"I thought y'all agreed to be just friends."

Loki takes a bite of his Hershey's bar and looks over to glare at Bucky. "We did", he says around a mouthful of chocolate.  
"Uh huh." Bucky picks up the remote and logs into the Team's Netflix account. "Because a romantic getaway to San Francisco is totally something that friends do."

"It's a business trip, and he invited me along. There's hardly anything romantic about it."

Bucky just rolls his eyes at him. He clicks on the first episode that appears, then pulls his feet onto the couch. "With anybody else", he continues, reaching into the bowl of candy between them. "Maybe. But you know how Stark is. He'll spend half the convention being a nerd and the other half trying looking for someone to spend the rest of the trip with."

Loki purses his lips. He keeps his eyes focused on the T.V. "So?"

Bucky just smiles. He unwraps a mini Reese's cup, tosses the wrappers into their bowl, and shoves the chocolate into his mouth. "So you'll be there. And he won't have to look."

"..."  
"You two are too Cupidsick with each other to not be a couple."

Loki huffs. He snatches one of the pillows from behind him and throws it Bucky's way. "You know", he admonishes, watching him smugly. "I think you'd be much happier if you were this romantically astute with the Captain."

Bucky's face becomes overwhelmed with surprise. He sits up, lowers the pillow, and pauses the T.V. "Wait a second, what does that mean?"

"Oh, well, would you look at the time, I have to go pack." Before Bucky can get in another word, Loki's rising and opening a portal to his room. "Goodbye, Bucky."

Bucky pouts. "We're not even two minutes in! And hey!" He hops to his feet and rushes to the portal, only to stumble as it closes behind him. "What the hell does that mean? Have you been talking to Steve!"

Morning comes, and Loki and Anthony are on a private flight to San Francisco. Anthony talks the whole first half of the flight, animated and alive, making grand hand gestures as he and Loki trade questions. Loki's never been particularly fond of flying, but the time passes quickly with Anthony so close and so happy. He likes seeing Anthony happy. He likes seeing him so proud and content with his work. In the back of his mind, there's always Thanos and the thought that this, whatever it is, has no chance of surviving. But at the front, and the front's the most important, there's Anthony, tossing his head back as he howls in laughter and Anthony, ducking his head as a fine blush coats his cheeks, and Anthony falling asleep on his shoulder as the sky comes alive.

Their plane lands, and Loki's jetlagged. At the same time, he's never felt lighter.

. . .

Anthony spends the first half of the week at the convention. Each time he comes back, he looks soft, happy, but, of course, he dismisses it as "Alone Time With Nerds". It takes a little coaxing, but Loki eventually gets him to talk to him about the convention in layman's terms. Anthony always seems anxious about it, watching Loki cautiously as if worried he'll lose interest. Loki's usually quick to ease his concerns, but it does make him wonder who could have instilled such apprehension.

After his review of the students' inventions, and his increasing approval of the school's STEM club, they take to their suite's couch to watch silly YouTube videos. Animal videos mostly but, then again, Loki's not really paying attention because Anthony's getting closer and closer until, on the forth night, Anthony pounces into his lap and sends them both sprawling onto the floor.

"Anthony!", he giggles. He lifts his hands to grab purchase of the table, but this just sends his cup of cranberry juice tilting over and spilling on the both of them.

"Great", Anthony scoffs, gesturing to his ruined shirt. "This was a good shirt, you know."

"Really?" Loki scoffs and stands. "That must be why I never see you wearing it."

Anthony just sticks out his tongue. He rolls onto his knees, groans, and tosses a towel onto the table. At Loki's disapproving scowl, he grins, shrugs, and walks to the bathroom. "We have maids. Let's make use of them." When he returns, it's with two soaking towels; one wrapped around his neck and another that he passes to Loki as they sit back on the couch.

"Thank you." Loki pats at the patches of juice on his skin before he pauses and scowls.

"Something wrong?"  
"No. I just forgot how stubborn cranberry can...be." Loki looks up from his shirt to Anthony and finds him taking off his shirt. Anthony drags his towel over his chest, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he catches the last drops of juice.

"Loki?"

Anthony's pressing his towel into the crook of his neck, smirking when Loki's eyes lose their glaze to look up at him.

"Yes?"  
He stares at Loki, looking like he has something to say. In the end, he just tosses his new towel on the table and scratches his scalp. "I think you got some juice on your back."

"Oh." Loki blushes and lifts his towel to try to wipe, but Anthony's still looking at him, and he's looking just like he did that night in the pit. Loki clears his throat and nods. Within an instant, he's turned around, and Anthony's crawled across the couch to sit behind him.

"You're doing better." Anthony presses the towel, chilled to its very fibers, to Loki's shoulders; he wraps an arm around Loki's chest, his fingers pressing deep into his skin. All at once, Loki finds himself being hit with both an arctic cold and a scorching heat. He tries not to moan, but it comes out anyway, ragged and breathy like he's come up for water and relishing in the act of having not drowned. "Your body mass, your muscles, they're coming back." Anthony leans in close, smiling at the shiver he sees afflict the body before him. "I hardly recognize you", he whispers, his lips an inch away from Loki's ear.

"It's all thanks to you." Loki squeaks, feels his body contort as Anthony presses harder of both ends. He falls back against Anthony's chest and stares up at him. "I wouldn't even still be here if it weren't for you."

"You're too hard on yourself."

Loki licks his lips. Anthony's eyes dip down to them. His hands stall in their ministrations, and he leans in until he's close enough to press their lips together. Close enough.

But still not together.

They both pull away, and it takes everything in Loki not to cry out in frustration.

"I miss the pit", Anthony whispers. To anyone else, it'd be quite an odd, quite a mad statement. But Loki was there with him, down in the mud and the dirt, and he knows what he means but isn't quite ready to say.

Loki entwines their fingers, grabs Anthony by his chin, and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I do, too."

After that, there's no more mention of the conference. There's still a lot of tech-talk, but it's not just confined to their suite anymore. Now, they take cabs to cinemas and parks and ice cream parlors. It's a bit strange. After being confined to small, confined spaces for so long, hour long walks throughout the city is nothing short of jarring. Anthony must sense this because when Loki slips his hand into his, he doesn't let it go for the remainder of the day.

The first night, they go to Discovery Kingdom. The crowds are ginormous, and the lines are dreadfully long. Patience has never been one of Loki's virtues, but he takes delight in watching two couples fight over if "Cutsies" applies when only one person leaves the line.

"Spoiler alert", Anthony whispers, shoving a wad of cotton candy into his mouth. "It doesn't."

Loki raises an eyebrow. "You let me cut back in line."  
"Yeah, well." He shrugs, then turns back to watching the fight in amusement. "You're cuter than they are."

Loki hums. He reaches into Anthony's bag of cotton, then leans against the rusting gate beside them. "For someone who's sworn to protect the public", Loki says. "You sure do seem enchanted by the misfortunes of others."  
"Only when they're assholes. The girls with the mohawks? They were here first. I'm rooting for them."

Loki frowns. He squints and stares at the two women's heads, then murmurs, "Is that what they are?" Anthony takes a sip of his drink and cocks his head to the side. "I thought they were some sort of animal."  
Anthony snorts, and a stream of purple comes shooting out of his nostrils. He groans, and Loki chuckles, covering his mouth with a hand as he earns a scowl and a handful of popcorn to his face.

"And that", Loki says, taking the giant cup of soda from Anthony. "Is why you don't eat when you're talking. It's basic courtesy, Anthony." As he's saying this, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a napkin, and passes it to Anthony.

"Thanks", Anthony says, wiping at the gathering stain on his t-shirt. He turns and tosses it into the nearby trashcan, then looks up at Loki and beams. "So", he drawls, leaning against him. "Your first rollercoaster ride. You excited?"

The line creeps further long. Overhead, a dark clown's voice emits from speakers, giggling in delight as he raves on in madness. Something swooshes, and a cluster of carts surges above them, leaving behind a trail of screams as the riders travel along the tracks. If he looks up, Loki can see the riders twisting and flipping and dropping in a frenzy, sneakers going this way and that with zero regard for physics.

It's amazing. After having almost died countless times, something as silly as a Midgardian contraption can still wind up his nerves.

"It's not as scary as it seems", Anthony says, drawing his attention back to him. "Well, I mean it is, but it's fun." A shoe crashes to the ground behind him. He purses his lips, then looks back up to Loki.

"You humans sure do have a peculiar sense of 'fun'", Loki says with a soft laugh. In an instant, Anthony's hand is back in his grasp. But by then, of course, the previous passengers have staggered off, and the next set is moving forward.

They're among the next set.

"It'll be fine", Anthony whispers as they're being buckled into their seats. Due to the seat design, they can no longer hold hands, but if he kicks his feet forward, they knock against Anthony's. The people sitting across from them look at them weirdly, but Loki summons a pigeon to shit on their heads, and the funny faces stop.

"All right, everybody", the operator calls out, pulling the lever. "Here we go!"

"Here we go", Anthony giggles.

Loki's seat pulls backwards, and it keeps going. They start scaling the tracks, and Loki gulps, desperately wanting to crane his neck around but content to just sit and watch as Anthony's eyes widen with delight the higher they go. What a strange thing, to be fascinated by being this close to death.

The carriage crawls to the top of the tracks and pauses.

At first, Loki just sits there, taking in the sight of what had once been an expansive amusement park but is now like a miniature kingdom. It's like he's a little boy again, dreaming of the god he would grow into and all the life and all the worlds he would create. Even the largest of the attractions seem tiny and yet so endearing. And above them, a clear, dark blue sky, stretching out and around them as far as the eye can see. Dazzling, flickering lights, illuminating the long stretch of land like a big PingPong machine. Loki smiles. He turns to Anthony and finds him smiling right on back.

"Wow", Loki says.

And then it drops.

Loki stares, watching as the ground rushes up to them, until his eyes slam shut. He hears the people behind him screaming, he hears Anthony screaming, he hears himself screaming. His legs are dangling beneath him, his hair's flying behind him, and his heart's galloping all throughout his body. It's ridiculous. This thing, this beast of a machine, it can't kill him. It can't kill either of them. And yet it's got him so scared that his grip on his harnesses has frozen the metal solid. It's ridiculous, it's nonsensical, it's absurd.

It's amazing.

Loki giggles. He opens his eyes just as the Joker jerks and sends them twirling upside down. His stomach hops, and he tips his head back, cackling as his body doubles over and over and over again.

And then it's over.

Just that fast, it's over.

The twisting and twirling comes to a sharp, abrupt end. The carriage hisses as it coasts back into its resting place, and everyone ceasing in their shouting.

Loki pries his fingers free from the harnesses just as they unlock and rise. He hops out of his seat, breathing airily as his skin tingles. Anthony hops out of his own seat, then walks up to him and wraps his arms around his waist.

"Was it good", he asks, reaching up to brush a stray strand of Loki's hair back into place.

Loki presses his forehead to his and smiles. "Yes. Yes, it was very good."

After that, they go to an arena of gigantic Teacups. They spend the first few minutes actually turning the wheel until Anthony attaches a device that spins it on its own. The Teacup keeps on spinning, and their bodies jerk to and fro with the momentum, but they're sitting close together, hand in hand, with Anthony pressed to Loki's chest. There's carnival music playing and small children pointing and squealing at them, but they're not paying attention. Anthony's watching him in a way Loki hasn't been watched in a long time, and Loki could just choke on the affection bubbling up within him.

The Cups stop spinning, but, as far as Loki's concerned, he and Anthony could go on revolving one another for all of eternity.

They go on a few more rides. The Tunnel of Love, naturally, the Ark, Monsoon Falls, and a few dozen others Loki can't be bothered to remember the names of. When they finish, they stop into a gift shop to purchase stuffed animals. Anthony buys him a tiger, and Loki buys him a penguin. Then they leave and spend the next few hours wandering the Park, just talking. Their legs begin to ache, and they take a seat on a bench, where they watch rollercoasters zigging and zagging all about the Park like frantic, metal snakes.

"I used to love this place", Anthony says. His eyes are closed. He's got his head propped up against Loki's shoulder, and his penguin's resting in his lap, staring up at them with an everlasting smile.

"Really? I hadn't noticed."  
Anthony rolls his eyes. "No, really. When I was kid, my parents were always busy. But a few times a year, when she wasn't busy with the house and the company, mom would sneak me away from school to spend the day here."  
Loki's lips quirk up. He looks over at him and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Anthony blushes, then leans over to peck a kiss to the edge of his lips.

"Did you have fun", Loki asks him quietly.

Anthony's smile turns sad; very much still present but also very despondent, like looking at long-since cherished item and slowly coming to realize that it's begun to wilt. "Yeah", he eventually says; he closes his eyes and hums, sliding further and further until he's laying in Loki's lap. "She loved dad", he goes on, and the light in his eyes dims. "But she always seemed to smile a lot more when he wasn't around. And those days at the park, I could tell she needed them just as much as I did."

Loki purses his lips. Anthony doesn't speak much about his family. From what he's gathered, there was definitely tension with his father and profound remorse for his mother. Loki wishes he would talk more about them, even if just to himself. He hurts so greatly when it comes to them, and it pains Loki that there's very little he can do to change the fact.

"She sounds like a lovely lady", he says because it's all that comes to his mind. Maria truly sounds like a remarkable woman, and he would have loved to have known her.

"She was." He reaches out, and Loki extends his hand, meeting Anthony's grasp squeeze for squeeze, pressure to pressure.

They don't say much more after that. They just stay as they are, enwrapped in one another, watching as the current of people ebbs and flows. People coming and going, laughing and crying, staggering and running; people like them, people unlike them, people that smile and gush, people that sneer and toss obscenities like they're lit grenades. They all come and go, but in the end, it's just Loki and Anthony sitting on that bench, watching as it all changes and stays the same.

They've just about fallen asleep, Anthony blinking sleepily in his lap, and Loki lazily stroking his fingers through his hair, when the earth suddenly rumbles and the constant chatter of noise comes to an abrupt halt.

Anthony jerks to a sit and tosses an arm across Loki's middle. Loki just raises his eyebrows, as if to say, "Really?" Before Anthony can pull a face, a crack splinters through the ground beneath them and begins to peel.

"And that's our cue", Anthony says with a sigh. Particles of metal fall over him, then pull back to reveal his suit of armor, leaving only his face visible to the eye. He looks over at Loki and says, "You good for combat?"  
Loki smiles tiredly and rises to his feet. "Always", he replies, swiping a field of energy across the ground before him and dispersing it just as Anthony's repulsors flare to life and send him soaring through the air. Loki hums, lifts his palms, and the crowd of people rises with the green energy field on several scrawling paths above the park. "All right, everyone", he shouts, taking a moment to make sure his glamour is still in place. "Get to the nearest exit!"

He doesn't waste any time confirming that they've done so. He just summons an energy field of his own beneath them and surges through the park.

Energy fields. Not nearly as fast as teleportation but they don't require nearly as much energy.

He's traveled across an acre or so of the park when he comes upon the cause of the destruction. A creature, one which he can only describe as something one of his books once called a Jabberwocky. It's crawling out of the earth, snatching a cart of cotton candy off the ground and tossing it into the Batman rollercoaster.

"Anthony", Loki calls out, launching himself towards the creature.

"I'm on it!", he hears in his ear, just as Anthony's suit jets towards the rollercoaster.

In the moment he's taken to watch Anthony catch the cart, the Jabberwocky's sailed towards him, snapping its jaws in his direction. Loki yips and calls his energy field higher, slamming against the field with a loud thump. He groans, pressing a hand to his head, and watches as the Jabberwocky howls and flaps his wings.

"It's becoming irate", Loki says, calling field after field, leaping from one to another as the beast pursues him. "I'm going to lure it away from the park!"  
"All right. Just make sure you don't go too high-oh, for fuck's sake."

Loki makes an abrupt turn, catching sight of a second Jabberwocky emerging at the center of the Seaside Junction. "Another one", he says in exasperation.

"Looks like it's a party. I've got this one. You maintain those fields and keep the first one busy."  
Loki cranes his neck. Sure enough, it's still there, growling and snapping its jaws like a ferocious kitten. "Oh, it's busy all right", he murmurs, summoning a field several feet beneath him. He jumps and crashes into it, watching as the Jabberwocky crashes into what he sincerely hopes is an abandoned mountain park ride. It shrieks and fumbles, but the rocks crash in on it, effectively leaving it trapped.

"Finally", Loki sighs. He steers his field to the green pathways zigzagging above the park and pauses, lifting a glowing hand to call attention to the panicking crowd of people. They don't stop, so he gathers in a deep breath, calls forth all of his magic, and yells, "Stop!"

Over the course of a minute, the people cease in their running and shouting. The remaining Jabberwocky, of course, doesn't, but he can see Anthony cast him a glance. Even behind his faceplate, Loki can see the uncertainty in his eyes, and he knows that he's also thinking of another day, of another crowd. Loki winces, turns away, and looks back to the fields. This is a different day, and these are not the same people. They're looking at him, not in fear, but with hope seated heavily in their eyes. 'Course, they don't know that he's Loki, they think he's a nice lady in a tube top and green shorts.

Focus, stay focused.

"This amusement park has become unstable", Loki shouts.

From somewhere, a voice calls out, "Yeah, no shit!"

He purses his lips, then says, "You all need to exit in a calm, orderly fashion, preferably without trampling anyone to death. Do you think this is a feasible goal?"  
"No!"  
"Well, then fucking make it feasible!"

Anthony snorts in his ear, and Loki rolls his eyes. He widens the pathways, earning himself a minor headache in the process, and relocates the fields several dozen meters to the right. Before he can finish and lower them to the ground, though, the mountain park ride trembles and explodes into debris as the Jabberwocky frees itself from its confines. Then the ground rumbles, and another Jabberwocky emerges, tossing a torrent of acidic spittle all about the park.

"Son of a bitch", Anthony curses, struggling underneath the weight of his own beast. "They're like fucking rabbits."

Loki narrows his eyes. He sends the energy fields back up, then darts over to Anthony, scooping him up from underneath the beast and flying him to the top of a ferris wheel.

"We have to evacuate", he says through gritted teeth. "I'm only going to be able to hold those fields for another ten minutes at most before they shatter and those people come raining down."  
"Right." Anthony flies out of his grasp and sighs. "I put out a notice. We've got backup coming in."

Loki raises an eyebrow. "Backup as in 'emergency services' or backup as in 'super assistance'?"

Anthony's faceplate flicks up. He's grinning. "Lokes", he says tauntingly. "You know this is a super-only gig."  
He rolls his eyes. Swerving his field so that he's behind Anthony, he leans into his ear and whispers, "Funny. I never thought of us as very 'super'."  
"Mm, well, you thought wrong."

"Obviously." Loki leans in close, close enough so watch as his breath arouses the airs crawling up his neck, then pulls away and swerves back in front of him. "So who are we expecting?"

The question has just barely passed his lips when, far off in the horizon, his eyes catch sight of two figures streaking across the sky on red energy fields. Loki casts Anthony a glance and raises his eyebrows.  
"They're a dollop of fun", he merely says before taking off and slamming into the chest of one of the beasts.

"He's not wrong", one of the figures calls out as they draw closer. The person casting the field pauses, and the other leaps into the air, dropping until it crashes on top of a carnival tent, then dashes across the park at a surprising speed.

Right. Super.

"Wanda", Loki says, his shoulders relaxing. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

Wanda just shrugs. "We were in the area."

Loki hums and merges their fields together, fighting down a prideful smirk at the surprise that colors across her face. "I need you to put a layer underneath my fields; I'm afraid my energy's running rather low, and I'd rather avoid a catastrophe."  
Wanda smirks. "Of course." She pulls up her hands, twists them about one another, and the pathways darting about the sky take on a greenish-grey tint. The level of craft, concentration, skill, and all at her age no less, leaves him feeling both impressed and a bit envious. The former, however, takes up more of his attention, and he offers her a fleeting smile before turning his gaze to the bellowing Jabberwockies below.

"What the hell is that", Wanda asks, sounding more annoyed than anything else.

"A mess", Loki replies. "And we need to sort it. They have a high pain threshold, and their massive builds make it difficult to truly fight them." He stretches out several stepping fields, and Wanda does the same, marching right on beside him. "Your magic. Can you use it t lure them all into a single area so we can trap them?"

Wanda nods solemnly, then breaks away from his path to go after the second Jabberwocky. As she's going, his earpiece crackles, and her voice emerges beside his ear to say, "I need you guys to piss them off and lure them near the main entrance. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes", three voices reply, and then Loki's stopped paying attention and hurled himself in the direction of the nearest Jabberwocky.

It only takes a moment. The beast, occupied by the confession stand of stuffed animals, looks up, locks its eyes onto Loki, and hisses. Loki just smiles and pulls two daggers from his belt, leaping once more to slice them across its eyes. It howls and swipes at him, batting its wings and taking flight as Loki takes to the skies.

"Wanda", Loki pants, tossing field after field before him. "Whatever it is you're planning, it needs to be ready in the next fifteen seconds."  
"I'm ready", she replies, zipping his way as Anthony and Pietro lead their respective Jabberwockies towards him.  
They all come to a head, with the Jabberwockies slamming into one another and being stunned by the collision. Loki and Wanda teleport to the ground, zapping out of the way just in time. Wanda raises her hands, calling forth tendrils of red, and casts them around their heads. In an instant, their cries and floundering have ceased, leaving the beasts seemingly calmed, almost meditated.

"Mind control", Loki notes, and Wanda's arms go taut. Her eyes dart to meet his, and he nods. "Impressive."

Her lips thin out. She turns away, her hair light from the red tendrils swimming about her curls, and turns attention back to the beasts.

Loki knows her story. He understands the hesitation.

Loki opens a portal to Svartalfheim, Wanda eases them forward, and that's that. Let the Dark Elves deal with the mangy beasts.

"And that", Anthony says in his ear. "Is how the cookie crumbles."

"Mm." Blood trickles from Loki's nose; he lifts a finger to catch it and closes his eyes, all at once feeling unbearably dizzy. A wall appears at his side, and a hand falls upon his shoulder.

"Are you all right", Wanda asks, sounding concerned.

"I am fine." He forces his eyes open and gives her a tired smile. "Just a bit tired is all." She stares like she doesn't believe him, but he just waves a hand through the air, then jerks his head skyward. "It's probably best if you'd assist them. My fields are about to fall, and they're a bit of a panicky lot."

Wanda continues to stare. It's only when Pietro calls for her help does she sigh, nod, and open a portal to their fields. As she's stepping through, Anthony pushes past and nearly sprawls to the ground, catching himself with his rockets just before he can meet the pavement. Wanda looks between them both and smirks, then folds within her portal and mends the tear within reality.

"There is magic within her", Loki says as she takes a seat on the ground. "Artificial but natural as well. She'd be a good mage."

Anthony pats his chest, and his armor peels off, revealing his civilian attire beneath. He takes a seat beside Loki and gives him a soft look. "I could ask if you want."  
He shakes his head. "The decision is hers entirely. Though if she were to pursue such a craft, I'd be honored to be her mentor."  
Anthony turns away to observe the damage before them. The ground looks like it's been afflicted by a quake, and all of the rides have either collapsed or been damaged beyond immediate repair. It's kind of a shame. It'd been rather a nice day, and those beasts just came along and dragged it to ruin.

Loki takes Anthony's hand in his, grabs him by his chin, and presses their lips together. Anthony's eyes go wide, and he stares, absolutely befuddled, before leaning in closer, lids closing over his eyes, and wrapping an arm around Loki's waist. Loki sighs, his own eyes fluttering shut, and tosses his arms around Anthony's shoulders. Norns, how he's missed these lips. Anthony's tongue prods at his lips, and Loki gasps, his body jerking as Anthony's warm hands slide tauntingly up and down his sides.

Just as things are getting heated, a voice clears in Loki's ear and has them both jumping away from each other. "Guys", Wanda says calmly. "Turn off your mics."  
Loki blushes, and Anthony wipes a hand over his face. "Sorry, guys", he says before tapping his ear.

Loki does the same, then crawls to his feet. He opens a portal to their hotel room, takes Anthony's hand in his own, and guides them to the couch.

"Hopefully, those two'll keep their mouths shut", Anthony mutters as they both collapse onto the couch. "Steve's been looking for material for years, and there's no way he's gonna let this pass if he hears of it."

"Well, we just saved an amusement park full of people from a pack of wild beasts." Loki brushes his hair out of his face and offers him a sly smile. "If he's feeling cheeky, you can always remind him of that." He pulls his feet onto the couch then, yawning as the energy spent on both the battle and their day at the park catches up to him.

"Sleepy?", Anthony asks, watching as he sags against him.

"Mm. Just a tad."  
"Ah."

Before Loki knows it, he's being lifted off the couch and carried into Anthony's room. Their room.

Anthony softly places him on the bed, taking a moment to take off both of their shoes, before crawling in beside him. Loki stares, and he stares back, and, by the time Loki's fallen asleep, he's snug, warm, and content within his arms, his mind blissfully empty.

. . .

It's later that night, and Loki awakes to find Anthony staring down at him, eyes molten and intense like that night in that pit. He doesn't move, still pretending to be asleep, but he can't help the slight moan that leaves him when a Anthony lifts a hand and brushes it against the side of his neck.

"Loki", Anthony whispers, whispers it like it's absolution, like it's the only thing he knows to be truth. He leans over, fingers curling into and within Loki's, and presses their foreheads together.

Loki's heart is beating fast. He's thinking facades, muddies hands, and anguished cries; he's thinking broken fingers, distorted memories, and sharp fingernails, digging into the skin of a trembling spine as two lost souls grasp hold of something, anything, to keep themselves from slipping away into nothing. He's thinking armies, wine glasses, demolished cities, disapproving faces, and the proper means of a courtship and just how clear the disappointment in his father's face would be. He's thinking Doctor Banner because it's a simple, singular concept, and he needs something to focus on, something to ground himself in, and he needs to be certain.

"Anthony, wait." Loki grabs hold of his wrists and pants, looking deeply into his eyes. "You can't have it both ways", he says quietly, willing for Anthony to see the words for what they are and what lies beneath them. "We're-we're either lovers, or we're friends."

_If you are to have me, you are to have all of me. Sins and virtues, mistakes and successes, fears and hopes. I am either all of me or none of me._

Anthony presses his head harder against his; his eyes are wide, stormy, intense. He knows. "Then, I guess it's a good thing I only need it one way."

And then they're kissing. Kissing, like there's no one watching, because there isn't. Kissing like they're afraid to lose each other, because they are. Kissing like they're back in the pit, because, in a lot of ways, they are; scrambling through the darkness, desperate to just stay together long enough for the storm to pass and ever grey sky to lighten.

"Anthony", Loki whispers, frantically disrobing before tossing himself back into his arms. They're both naked, but, then again, they always have been, never truly able to hide from the other's all-knowing gaze; open and bare, exposed to one another in ways they've never allowed themselves to be with anyone else. Anthony comes down, deep, hard, crushing, and Loki meets him in every way that he can, arms wrapped tautly around him as his legs hook firmly around his face.

He can feel Anthony mouthing at the skin of his neck, pulsing, hot and thick, against his thigh; fingers slow and steady, gliding down his chest, his stomach, and lower and lower and lower. Loki bites his lip, and the muscles in his legs go taut as he tosses his head back and gasps thickly.

"Fucking hell, Lokes." There's plastic tearing, and in the next moment, Anthony's fingers have retreated, replaced with something harder and hotter, pressing and prodding, searching with only a scant memories' information to go on but directing with the certainty of an aging traveller. Delving deeper and deeper until they're chest to chest, eye to eye, connected in everywhere two people can be. Loki keens, lifts a hand to grab the scruff on the back of Anthony's neck. "Anthony!", he cries out, giving himself over so completely and just feeling so confused because there is no fear, no pain, no guilt, just pleasure and love, and Anthony's staring down at him like he's just amazed. Belatedly, Loki realizes he's yet to recover his strength after the day's events; his glamour, like a mighty empire, has fallen, leaving only horns, golden spirals, red eyes, and miles upon miles of blue. He bites his lip and ducks his head, panicking, until a calming hand wraps around his middle and pulls him so that he's seated carefully in Anthony's lap.

"Loki", Anthony says, and he sounds like he could cry. "Oh my fuck, you're beautiful."  
And they're both crying, finishing. And even with his energy sorely depleted, Loki arches his back and releases a surge of magic, tendrils of green lifting the bed in the air; yellow dots like tiny, kindred spirits float about the room, and he and Anthony watch, transfixed as they reach their climaxes before falling, slowly, camly, blissfully, back down to earth.

"Loki", Anthony sighs, falling into him.

Loki catches him, eyes clenched shut and wet with tears yet to be shed. "Anthony", he says; says it like fruition, and it is. He is.

He meets Anthony everywhere he is, in everything that he is, and falls asleep, in embrace, comforted by the fact that, no matter what's to come, he has this, this night and this man, to forever keep him in the fight.

No matter what that fight may entail.

. . .

It occurs to Loki, sometime between midmorning and afternoon as they're lounging in bed, that those Jabberwockies are Thanos's favorite method for unleashing chaos on unsuspecting planets. He tells Anthony this, trailing his fingers up and along his stomach, and the conversation ends there, replaced with yet another nap, because what else is there to say?


	13. 13

"I see things are better between you and Tony."  
Loki frowns. He looks up from the frying pan in his hands to glance at Thor, who's making a rather pathetic attempt to keep the delight out of his eyes at the subject matter.

He could be surprised, but Thor's always been a bit of a gossip.

"Yes", Loki says tightly before turning his attention back to the sausages on the stove. "Yes, they are."  
Thor creeps closer, scooting his bowl of peeled fruit closer to the stove. Loki sighs, and Thor just smiles wide.

"Is there something you wanted", Loki hisses, shaking the pan back and forth.

Thor's smile turns lazy. He props his arms up on the counter and sighs, looking for all like he's been struck by Cupid's bow. "Oh, nothing", he says, and all he needs is a sunflower and the dramatic backdrop of a sunset. "It's just...well, love is in the air, as my Lady Jane would put it." He giggles, then reaches into his bowl for a naked kiwi. "I think I understand mother now. Being in love and watching others in love at the same time is a whole matter of intoxicating."  
"Oh, Thor, please do spare me, I don't want to vomit on our breakfast."

"Jane and I", Thor continues loopily. "You and Tony. Bucky and Steve-"  
"Bucky and Steve", Loki asks, an eyebrow raised. "Do you mean to tell me they've gone beyond staring longingly at each other?"

Before the words have finished leaving his mouth, Bucky and Steve enter the room, and, sure enough, their hands are interlocked.

"Morning, fellas", Steve greets, pulling a chair out for Bucky at the table

Loki catches Bucky's eye and smirks; Bucky smiles back, eyes sparkling with mischief, and presses a kiss to Steve's cheek before loudly saying, "So Loki, how was the honeymoon?"

"You all are being a particular dreadful lot this morning", Loki says with bright blue cheeks. He turns off the stove, slides the sausages onto a ceramic plate, and sets it at the center of the table. Similarly, Thor picks up his bowl and places it beside it, pointing his spoon at them as he says, "Save some for the others".

"Hey, don't look at me", Steve says defensively. "This guy here's the black hole." Then, turning his eyes to Loki, he smiles and says, "So...was it a good trip?"

Loki can't help it. His smile returns. Even if the trip hadn't been pleasant, and even if he pretends to be annoyed by his Team's nosiness with his personal qualms, he's actually kind of pleased by it; months ago, they were all wary to even be in the same room as him. Now, they're pestering him about his love life.

Norns, they've turned him into a sap.

Thor tosses an arm over his shoulder, and Loki doesn't pull away. "Yes", Loki says in answer to Steve. "Yes, it was very nice."

"Hey, boys." Natasha saunters into the kitchen and slides into a seat across from Steve. "So what are we talking about?"

"Loki's courtship with Tony."

Loki scoffs and swats Thor across the head. "We are not in a courtship"."  
Natasha just raises an eyebrow. "Could have fooled me", she says, tosses an orange slice into her mouth. "What with the honeymoon and everything."  
Loki just rolls his eyes. He slides into a seat between her and Thor and just shakes his head. "Honeymoons come after a courtship, my dear", he says snobbishly.

This is nice. It feels...well, not quite like family, but it feels like home. He feels warm. Loki's drink freezes, and he wraps his arms around himself, feeling all like someone's lit a candle in his belly.

"Wow", Steve says, staring at the glass.

"Yep, he's got it bad."  
"Nat."  
"Well, he has."  
"Right", Bucky pipes up; he steals two sausages from the plate, giving Thor a thankful look, before turning back to her and sneering, "Like you and Banner aren't the same".

"Valentine's Day must be right around the corner", Clint announces as he makes his entrance. "Because everyone is blushing", he continues, taking a seat in Natasha's lap. "And I don't see any porn anywhere."

"Ever the classy man", Vision says as he trails in after him. He doesn't take a seat or eat. Just floats higher and crosses his legs, a hand placed on either thigh. "I thought we agreed to leave porn out of our everyday conversations."  
"We agreed to no such thing", Anthony says as he makes his way in. He pauses as he passes Loki, taking a moment to caress his cheek, before walking over to the fridge and pulling out the pitcher of orange juice. When he turns back around, he gives the table a lookover, pulls a face, and murmurs, "We're starting to look like a Brady Bunch and Addams Family crossover". He places the pitcher on the table, then sits beside Loki. He goes to say something, then, catching sight of the frozen juice in Loki's cup, cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows.

"Must be a draft", Loki murmurs, actively avoiding the various eyes around the table.

"All righty then", Anthony says before turning to address the group. Underneath the table, he slithers a hand onto Loki's thigh and just leaves it there. The pitcher freezes solid; no one says anything. "Guys, I've got news."  
"We've heard", Vision says from up above.

"No, not that news, other news. PR shit."  
A collective groan emits from around the table, each Avenger slooping in their chair or throwing their head back in disbelief.

And, okay, yes, Loki can see it. This really is something out of a sitcom.

"Fury says we need to do damage control", Anthony continues, waving his hands to effectively silence the table. "What with the, uh, Discovery Kingdom incident last week."

He places a tablet on the table; taking his fingers to the edges of the screen, he then tugs, and a hologram emerges before them, displaying an article about a gala in Chicago. "There's a charity dinner coming up, all proceeds going to the homeless, human and animals." Anthony darts his eyes across the table, his expression stern and open to little room for argument. "We all just need to show up, dance, mingle, maybe flash a couple hundreds, and that's it. The gala's in two days, and all Avengers to need to be present and accounted for."  
"That's going to be a problem considering all Avengers are not currently present and accounted for", Loki notes; he sets his palm upon Anthony's thigh and lightly taps his fingers against the fabric there.

"That's what email's for, precious." Anthony pats his cheek, smiles, then turns back to the table. "Stragglers, wear your best suit, or dress, and be on your best behavior."  
"Aren't we always?", Natasha asks with a wink.

Slowly, everyone finishes their meal and rises from the table, each leaving with explanations of plans to be made and things to do. Eventually, it's just Loki and Anthony, sitting at the table, nibbling on chocolate muffins.

"Your friends are…" He trails off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. "Pleasant."  
Anthony takes in his stuck expression and snorts. He snags Loki's muffin from his hand and pulls off a piece before tossing it into his mouth. "I know, it surprised me, too."

"I'm serious", Loki says with an eyeroll. In retaliation, he steals Anthony's muffin and takes a large bite of it. "I...I never thought they'd be this accepting of me, all things considered."  
"We've all got our pasts", Anthony says; his voice has gone low but thick with sincerity, and Loki leans in close, aching to hear more of it. "We've all done our fair share of bad shit. We don't act like we haven't." He brings a hand down to brush a lock of Loki's hair behind his ear, then goes to lower to take his chin in his hand to claim a chaste kiss from his lips. His eyes fall shut, and he quietly says, "You're a good person, Loki. They just needed some time to see it".

He's not too sure about that. Most days, he looks in the mirror and can't see too much of a difference from the man he saw just years ago, bitter and angry and broken and lost, dishing out destruction like it was candy because he couldn't contain the turmoil building within him. Sometimes, it's hard to look at the friends he's made and the home he's found and think he deserves it. He thinks of his status as POW amongst notS.H.I.E.L.D. and thinks the Avengers, no matter how welcoming now, are right to still have walls up concerning him. He doesn't believe he's a good person.  
But Anthony does. And it's nice to not only hear it from someone but to also look into their eyes and know, without a doubt, that they believe it. He believes in him.


	14. 14

_Anthony's been gone for quite some time now. Sometimes, Loki thinks he can hear him scream, but he can't be sure. Thanos has resumed his treatment, pumping him so full of drugs that Loki feels like his head is full of cotton and his legs weighted with lead. Even now, after all these months, Loki isn't sure what Thanos hopes to gain from the treatment. A twisted way of regaining Loki's trust, he supposes. The madman probably thinks he's helping, pouring molten lava into his veins like this. Of course, that's all Thanos has ever wanted; to help. If he weren't six leagues insane and the "treatment" wasn't causing him more agony than his chills, Loki might've found the gesture endearing._

_As it stands, though, he's a drooling pile of uselessness in a filthy cave, enslaved by the man he once called lover. So, yeah, he's not feeling too keen on gratitude._

_Loki blinks lazily and turns his head. Up above, he can see clouds. Not pink, like they usually are, but burning red; there's lightning crackling across the sky, like a rupture in the soil. He smiles and giggles, waving as a large, trembling hand reaches through the crack. Loki rolls onto his side and stares, transfixed as another hand descends, grabs him by the waist, and hoists him into the air. He's flying, flying, flying, watching as a man with the body of chiseled minerals takes him, where?, somewhere. Loki smiles again and rests his head against the man's shoulder, allowing himself to drift off into sleep._

_When he awakes, they've up and gone somewhere else. His head is a bit clearer, but his limbs aren't working. He frowns and sets his sights on Anthony, crouched underneath what looks like a garbage pod as he frantically ribs cables free from their circuits. Pain splinters behind his eye, and he groans, slooping forward from where he's pressed against the wall._

_The sound catches Anthony's attention, and he pauses in his work to stare at Loki, eyes wide with distraught as he bites his lip and darts his eyes around the shipyard._

_"It's okay", he whispers. "It's okay, Lokes. I'm gonna get you out of here. You're gonna be okay."_

_Loki starts to say something, but it just comes out muddied and lolled, like his tongue's inflated. He blinks wildly, makes a distressed noise, and tries to maneuver his arms in a gesture to show his discomfort. Anthony drops to his knees, presses a hand over his mouth, and shakes his head._

_"I know you're freaked out", he says in a low voice. "But I need you to be quiet. Okay? We've only got a few minutes before someone finds out we're missing, and we can't afford to shave any of that time off. Okay?"_

_Loki just blinks. And then he nods. And then Anthony's gone back to the garbage pod to tinker._

_Time jumps again, and they're within the pod now. There's something beeping, and someone shouting, a lot of shouting, and, hey, he can move again. Loki drunkenly rises so that his upper body is off the floor and squints at Anthony as he's frantically presses buttons in the driver's seat._

_"Anthony", he murmurs. "What-"_   
_"No time to explain", Anthony calls back, shrieking as something black and gooey splatters across the windshield. "Just, fucking shit, find something to strap yourself down with."_

_Loki grumbles but drags himself across the floor to crawl into one of the seats lining the walls of the pod; there's a peeling strip of rope laying against the seat, and he tosses it through the handles above him and along the seat in a makeshift seatbelt. From outside, he can hear clattering and yelling and stomping far off in the distance._

_"Anthony, what the hell have you done", Loki says, distress evident in his voice. "We can't just leave, he'll find us!"_

_"Well, we can't just stay here! And I'm not leaving you." He's turned around to face Loki, hands hovering over the control panel, and he lingers in the moment, staring angrily at Loki as if daring him to object._

_"He will find us", Loki says once more, but he's tightening the length of rope, and some of the tension goes out of Anthony._

_"Not before we bulk up", Anthony murmurs. He pulls a leaver, and, suddenly, their aircraft is lifting, rising as it sputters and zooms about the shipyard._

_"Was there not a better air vessel", Loki hisses, fingers wrapped in a death grip around his rope._

_"I didn't exactly have a lot of time to check! Shit!"_

_The pod slams into one of the shipyard's walls and careens out of control._

_"Anthony!" One of Loki's free hands goes to his mouth, and he gags, feeling, all at once, the remains of Thanos's drug kicking into overdrive as his stomach leaps into his throat._

_"Hang on, I got it." Anthony kicks his feet up onto the panel and tugs at his wheel, groaning as the garbage pod creaks and slowly tips back onto course. He sighs, pulls his wheel to the right, and guides them to the open door of the hangar. "Hang on", he says softly._

_And then he's gone again. Drugged back underneath the strength of the fire drug and left struggling for air until he at last resurfaces, leaning against his rope and blearily watching as the stars shoot past them._

_"Holy shit", Anthony's saying. "Holy shit!" He breaks out into a feral grin, pushes a button on the panel, and leaps out of his seat. "Holy shit!" Anthony cackles, then rushes back to crouch beside Loki. "We made it!"_

_Loki just frowns in confusion. "We...what?"_   
_"We got out! I mean, I can barely believe it, and I'm the one that got us out, but we did it!" He takes Loki's face in his hands, pulls him in, and kisses him like it's the day of a new year. "We did it!"_

_Well, they've certainly done something. Thanos won't like having his pet taken from him, let alone being bested by a Midgardian. But Anthony's smiling so hard and so wide, and it makes Loki want to smile, too. So he does. He smiles, wraps his uncoordinated arms around Anthony, and giggles._

_"We did it", he says as Anthony pulls him free from his rope and spins him around the room. "We did it."_   
_"Hell, yeah!" Anthony smiles bright and rests his head on Loki's chest, stopping to sit on the floor and just breathe. His giggles eventually thin out, and his smile fades, but he doesn't let go of Loki. He remains there, arms wrapped tightly around him, and just stares out the window, out at the bare blanket of space before them._

_"What do we do now", Loki asks._

_He doesn't know what he's expecting. It's a bit of a loaded question. What do we do now, now that we've launched ourselves into the middle of space with no plan and no map? What do we do now, now that we've escaped a lunatic's lair, knowing full well that he'll come after us? What do we do now, now that we no longer stand on opposing sides?_

_It's a question he doesn't want the answer to, but, at the same time, he needs answers. That's all he's ever wanted was answers. He found them with Thanos, then became disenchanted, then got captured, then found them in his terrified embraces with Anthony in that hollow pit. Now they're off to who knows where to do who knows what, and he finds himself absolutely uncertain towards what the future holds. He hasn't felt this lost since first learning about his heritage, and he finds the prospect of having to grovel towards something sensible, something tangible, something to keep him from spiralling and flailing about the galaxy a horrible, awful feeling._

_What is he to do? And how can he do it with the knowledge that no matter what he decides, it won't last as long as Thanos it is out there?_

_"We go home", Anthony answers solemnly. He looks down at him, eyes heavy and weary like he knows exactly what the real answer is. It's frustrating to no end, but Loki can't help but feel indebted all the same. Finding a way home, it seems significantly simpler than puzzling how to evade Thanos and the depths of their relationship. It's easier to focus on the immediate threat, like dying in a garbage pod, so that's what they do._

_They focus._

. . .

The next two days are pretty hectic. The past few weeks have been kind of dry and dull, with the Team mostly just lounging around the Main Suite like a lazy pack of wolves. But with the news of the PR gala, it's almost as if everyone's been stricken with a cattle prod, bustling to and fro as if afraid of not completing whatever business they have to attend to. Luckily enough, Loki has almost no business, so he's content to just sit back and watch everyone trip and stumble over themselves.

He gets that feeling again. The feeling that he could have a build a home here, build friendships here; it makes him dizzy, knowing that years ago, he'd've considered these people his mortal enemies. If he goes too far, he'll wonder if it's all really real. But there's enough distractions in the Tower to keep his mind occupied and away from that rabbit hole.

Even if he has no true responsibilities, Loki finds ways to keep himself busy, mainly assisting the others in chores or household duties. Folding laundry; fixing wobbly stools; organizing tool cabinets; simple, easy work. The others look at him oddly, like he's a painting out of place, but they don't say anything. All except Bucky, who insists that he's "nesting", but, for the most part, they let him be.

The gala arrives, and Loki forgoes the car ride altogether, teleporting he and Anthony there with just a wave of his hand.  
"You're getting pretty good at that", Anthony chuckles, playfully biting at his neck as they ascend the grand staircase before them.

Loki rolls his eyes. He uses his free hand to lift the bottom of his dress and bumps his hip against Anthony's. "Don't make a big deal out of it."  
"Oh, I wouldn't think of it." Anthony beams wide and hums merrily, a bounce in his step as they reach the top of the staircase and follow the crowd of people into the ballroom. "Do you prefer 'basic' or 'amatauer'? Hey!" Loki zaps him with a small bolt of electricity, and Anthony snorts, flicking a finger against his nose and snickering at the dismay that flashes behind his eyes. "Don't start what you can't finish."  
"Funny." Loki grabs the collars of Anthony's jacket and gives it a firm shake, leaning in to the shell of his ear to whisper, "I was just thinking the same thing". Before Anthony can respond, Loki turns on his heels and sashays through the crowd, accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter with a wink and nodding courteously at the civilians surrounding him. He spots Clint and Scott near the table of strawberries and Natasha and Bruce by one of the mabel pillars upholding the room. At the center of the room, there's a stage, and a jazz band is playing, soft and lustrous as their fingers work the instruments in their hums. Loki smiles and goes to wrap his arms around himself, but Anthony's already there, snug and warm against his back as they watch the world moving about them.

"I used to think Midgardian music was silly and abysmal", Loki notes absently. "But it's actually quite nice."

"Mm." Anthony presses his lips to the back of Loki's neck. "I knew you'd love it here."  
"Well. This is your home; I suppose there'd be lots to love." As he's saying this, Loki thinks of his own home, both of them, one decimated and turned to ashes and the other wasting away to nothing; he hasn't cared about either in years, but, at one point, he did, and it was fairly easy to see the good in them. Things are different now, of course, but, sometimes, he thinks of learning to love Anthony's home, and he mourns the lost opportunity to do the same onto him.

"Come on", Anthony says, turning Loki around to face him. He brushes Loki's hair out of his face, smiles softly, and jerks his head to the monochromatic dancefloor behind them. "Let's dance, huh?"

Loki doesn't object. He just allows himself to be lead to the dancefloor, smiling at the sudden heat blooming within the palm of Anthony's hand. "If I didn't know any better", Loki muses, lifting one hand and placing the other on Anthony's shoulder. "I'd say you were nervous."  
"Ah." Anthony wraps an arm around his waist and clucks his tongue. "Says the guy who's gone blue in the face."  
"Ha ha." He wiggles his fingers in Anthony's grasp, swaying his hips from side to side, and raises his eyebrows suggestively. Loki's eyes flash red, and cold seeps into Anthony's fingers, counteracting with the heat embedded and sending currents of warmth his way; a tapestry of snowflakes and flames emerges between them, and they both stare, eyes of wonder defining their already awestruck faces.

"Well", Anthony says in a trembling voice. He looks up into Loki's eyes and pulls his closer. "Would you look at that?" He folds his fingers over Loki's, never missing a beat in their revolving dance about the room. "Looks like I found myself a keeper."

They don't talk much after that. They just keep dancing, step forward, step back, step right, step left, repeat; Loki doesn't know who set the pace, but he's not paying attention to that. He's not paying attention to much of anything, save for the pure, glistening bliss within Anthony's eyes; Loki keeps his hold on his shoulder and hand tight and firm, following as much as he is leading, and, when the dip comes, Loki doesn't startle, just continues to stare, entranced by the unwavering adoration hidden beyond Anthony's deep, stormy eyes.

Loki's always known what is means to be alone amongst a crowd of people. But he's never known what it means to be together alone amongst a crowd. He's never known a connection so gut-wrenching that it could leave him oblivious to all his other surroundings, his senses, for all their worth, muddled like a diluted solution. He's never been so enamoured with a person to find everything else melting away to nothing as he falls deeper and deeper until it becomes as simple, as so wonderfully simple, as one step forward, one step back.

"Anthony", Loki says, afraid to blink. He digs his fingers into the meat of his shoulder and gulps; his glamour is wavering, and so is his courage, but he doesn't let either silence him. Not this time. "I love you."

Anthony stands on his toes and presses their foreheads together. Somehow, he's still on beat. "I love you, too."

There are bright, white lights surrounding them. The tiles upon the floor flicker with each moment, white to black, and black to white, and the strobe lights dot the room with orbs of light and darkness; Anthony's face is lit like something out of a projector, images upon images of a single subject, but with each change, his expression never changes, the love never falters*.

A strong, collective gasp emerges throughout the room. Loki's dropped his glamour, resuming the guise he wore what seems a lifetime ago. Anthony smiles and drops his cheek onto his chest. "I love you", he repeats, and it takes no effort for Loki to believe him.

. . .

That night, they go to Anthony's room and just lay in bed for hours on end, talking and not talking and breathing and existing. Loki gives Anthony a bracelet woven of the bark of a great Ash Tree and gems holding tendrils of his magic. Likewise, Anthony gives him a green and gold anklet with charms of reindeer and ice crystals.

"I should like to court you", Loki murmurs, pressing a kiss to his ear as he sits straddling Anthony. "If you would have me."  
Anthony just chuckles and hooks his legs around his waist. "Babe, you've had me for longer than you'll ever know."


	15. 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flaaaaaaaashback

_"I'm hungry."_

_He is hungry. He's been hungry for days, months even. But he doesn't know why he said that. It's not at all what he wanted to say, but he supposes it's the safest, and so that's what he goes with. "I'm hungry", he repeats, louder, sterner._

_"Yeah, well, what the hell do you want me to do about it", Anthony gripes from the driver's seat, wiping a hand over his face. He glances over at where Loki sits in one of the crew's beds and glares. "I can't just pull an apple out of my ass, you know. And even if I could, I'd be the one eating it, seeing as I'm just a 'simply human' who needs to eat more than you."_   
_Loki narrows his eyes. He staggers to his feet, ignoring the pangs ricocheting throughout his stomach, and walks over to the window to glower at the space passing by them. "I was born to be a king", he sulks, his shoulders slooped as a piece of debris drifts by the glass. "I was to be waited on, loved and adored by all. Not to die in space with a lowly mortal."_   
_"Yeah, well." Anthony inhales and smiles wickedly. "Far as I heard, the only king you were meant to be was king of ice, so it's really not that big of a let down, is it?"_

_Loki doesn't have any energy left to be bothered by the statement. And in all fairness, it's not like he's wrong. But he can't let him know that. "I don't know why", he says, closing his eyes. "Why I ever thought I could befriend you. Clearly, Thanos's drugs left me inhiberated in ways I hadn't yet considered."_

_"Of course", Anthony snaps back. "Because the only way you could care about me would be if your mind was shot to hell."_   
_Loki laughs, though he doesn't find the situation amusing. "Of course! Do you honestly think I could ever care for such a simple, wretched creature as you?" Anthony takes in a deep, sharp breath. From the reflection of the glass, Loki can see Anthony drop his head in his hands and begin tapping his foot furiously against the ground. Loki's smile, dim to begin with, fades, and he turns around, his heart jerking as Anthony looks up, eyes full of hurt, and stands from the seat._

_"I'm going to shower", he murmurs, brushing past him._

_"Anthony", Loki says with a wince; he goes to follow him into the bathing quarters, but Anthony just closes the door behind him and locks it shut. "Anthony, you're being ridiculous!" He goes to grab the knob, but it won't budge. "Anthony. Anthony, I didn't mean any of that." No response comes from the other end; the shower flicks on, cold water beating against steel floors. Loki bites his lip, dread settling in his stomach. "Anthony, I really didn't. I'm just-I'm just irritable from having been contained to such small quarters for so long. Anthony. Anthony, I'm sorry." The room remains quiet, and Loki's heartbeat quickens. Norns, don't let him ruin this, too. "Anthony", Loki shouts, banging a trembling fist against the door. "Anthony, I'm sorry! I do care about you, I care about you more than I do myself. I just get scared, and I take it out on you, and I know that's not right, but I'm sorry!" He frowns to himself and pulls his hands to his chest, his features contorted with confusion and remorse. "Anthony, I'm sorry."_

_The water keeps pattering against the floor, and Anthony gives no signal that he's heard a word Loki's said. Loki blinks back tears and sinks to the floor, wrapping his arms around himself as he waits for the door to open._

_Anthony doesn't deserve this. He's had too many people use him in the guise of caring about him, and here along came Loki, biting and badgering and confirming what he's no doubt been wondering his whole life, that everyone he lets in is only here to profit from something. He doesn't deserve that._

_It's an hour later, and Anthony emerges in one of the old worker's uniforms. His hair is wet and fluffy, his skin brighter, but his eyes are just as dark and troubled as they were when he first went in. Loki rises to his feet, fighting back the pained protest his knees give, and stands behind him._

_"Anthony", Loki says. "I-"_   
_"What do you want from me, Loki?" His back is to him, and his voice is low, grave like he's just received bad news. "Huh?"_   
_"Nothing."_   
_"Don't give me that." He turns then to face him, and his face is as serious as his voice. "You've been complaining since I got us out of there, so, obviously, there's something on your mind. Spill."_

_Loki sighs; he brushes a hand through his hair, thin and stringy from months of neglect, and presses his back to the wall. "It's not about you", he murmurs. Before Anthony can cut in, he lifts a hand and looks up to level him with a cool stare. "I'm just having trouble understanding, I suppose."_

_"Well, you're not alone there", Anthony says with a pointed look._

_Loki feels the urge to get angry, to get spiteful, to spit something hateful and bitter his way. But this isn't Anthony's fault. This isn't Anthony's fight. This is Loki's shit, and it's about time he dealt with it._

_"You didn't have to take me", Loki says quietly, still holding his eye. "You could have left me behind, but you didn't. You fought to bring me along, and I don't understand why. Why didn't you just-just leave me with Thanos, just leave me to die with my sins, as I should have?"_

_At first, Anthony doesn't say anything. He just looks at Loki, seemingly unmoved and unconvinced. Then, slowly, the tension drains from his body and so does some of the anger behind his eyes. He walks to Loki and sits on the floor beside him, crossing his legs and pressing his head against the wall. "Because you didn't deserve to", Anthony says on a sigh. He stares out at the wide windshield stretching above the console and shakes his head. "You're a...you're a twisted son of a bitch, Loki, I'll give you that. But you're not evil. And you didn't deserve that." He pulls up a knee, then turns to Loki, that stern look from before returning. "But I don't wanna hear of that shit about 'lowly mortals' and 'simple humans' anymore. That's me you're talking about, my people you're talking about; seeing how you've never really spent time amongst us, it's not really your place to decide just how worthless we are."_   
_Harsh. But true. And fair. Loki nods. Sighs. Smiles. And Anthony smiles back. Anthony pats him across the back, then stands, extending a hand down to him. Loki accepts, it, allows himself to be pulled to his feet, and lingers at his side for a moment before pulling away._

_"You should sleep", Anthony says as he walks back to the driver's seat. "You're still not a hundred percent, and, if you exhaust yourself, there won't be much I can do to help."_   
_"Right." Loki walks back over to his bed and lies down, pulling the thin sheet over him as he watches Anthony take the wheel off autopilot and set back to navigating the big, empty space surrounding them. "Anthony?"_   
_"Yeah."_   
_Loki turns on his side and closes his eyes. "I'm sorry."_   
_"...I know...Night, Lokes."_   
_"Goodnight."_


	16. 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grape returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated twice today, check out chapter 15!  
> . . .  
> Edit: OKAY, so I fucked up with the posting, went back and fixed some things! The double is gone, and there's an extra bit of text so go read that! Sorry, guys!

As can be imagined, the world loses its collective shit upon Loki’s “sudden” appearance, and several dozen criminal agencies put a warrant out for his arrest and/or death. Fury steps in and says the matter is handled and that he’s being “assimilated”, but tensions remain high, so Loki’s sentenced back to house arrest. He gets apologetic smiles and sympathetic claps on the back, but, truth be told, he’s not all that upset. 

“I just don’t get how you can be so calm”, Anthony murmurs, angrily tossing a pair of slacks into his suitcase. “All you’ve done this past year, all the effort you’ve put in.” He huffs and shakes his head. “It just doesn’t seem fair.”   
Loki smiles, lying in bed, surrounded by a fortress of pillows, and closes his eyes. He wraps his arms around himself and listens to the sounds about their room; the sound of footsteps running up and down the fall, Anthony’s frustrated luggage packing, the creaking of the bathroom door, the lulling voices drifting from the radio in the corner. It’s all very calming, very soothing; it’s homey. Even with all that’s all on the line, he can’t find it in himself to be anything other than content. 

“Anthony”, he says, peeling open his eyes. He looks over to where Anthony’s opening and slamming drawers. “You know as well as I that your people have reason to be, at the very least, cautious, of me. They think of Lila, and they just see another illusion, another trick, another deception; they see the old me, and, for now at least, there’s not much I can do to prove that they’re wrong. All we can do is...put our faith in notS.H.I.E.L.D. and your teammates’ testimonies and hope that that will be enough to get the warrant nulled.”   
From where he sits crouched before his dresser, Anthony sighs, leans his head back, and twists his waist to look up at Loki. He gives Loki a tired smile and rubs the side of his face. “You know”, he begins, a teasing lilt to his voice. “When J.A.R.V.I.S. offers you those Eustress and Relaxation tapes, you don’t have to listen to ‘em.”   
Loki rolls his eyes. He rolls over onto his side, watching as Anthony crawls over to his side of the bed. “Shut up.”   
“I’m serious.” He leans closer, takes hold of his hand, and presses his lips to Loki’s knuckles. “You’ve come a long way.” Loki ducks his head, ears a bright blue, and Anthony grins, crawling further into the bed to press their lips together. “Just wish everyone could see you the way I do.”

Loki hums, parting his lips as Anthony slips a hand underneath his shirt and begins toying with one of his nipples. “Well, darling, I, ah, I’m afraid you’ve got a bit of a, oh, a bias.”

“Really?” Anthony wiggles his eyebrows and crawls into his lap, grinding hard against his pelvis. “What makes you say that?”

Loki drops his head back against the pillows and cards his fingers through Anthony’s hair. “Don’t be a tease”, he chides, his voice light and bouncy with giggles. He swats Anthony’s eager hands away and pats the side of his neck. “You have a plane to catch, and you’re not going to leave me like this.”   
“Mm, leave you like what?” Anthony smiles and goes to bite his ear, gasping when Loki dips a hand into his pants and jerks him three quick strokes. 

“Like that”, Loki says; he kisses him, bites his lip, then jerks his head to where Anthony’s last suitcase remains unpacked. “Go on, now. You’ve yet to finish packing.”   
“Well, forgive me if I’m a little distracted.” He grinds against him once more, eliciting a groan from both himself and Loki, before reluctantly pulling himself away and returning to his pile of suitcases. “I could always stay”, he calls out over his shoulder. “Send a hologram in my place. I don’t think they’d be too put off.”

Loki scoffs. “Tensions are high enough as they are. Now is probably not the time to toy with your superiors.”   
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Flipping the buckles of his suitcase, Anthony then stands, places it beside the three other suitcases, and sits back on the edge of the bed. “I just hate to have to take off like this. Things were finally going right, you know?”   
“Yes, I know.” Loki smiles, grabs hold of his chin, and brushes his lips against his cheek. “But I’ll be here when you get back, and you have Fury and Steven should problems emerge.” He reaches up to trace his fingers through his hair and hums to himself. “I’ll be fine.”

Anthony looks at him, and Loki doesn’t have to ask him to know what he’s thinking because he’s thinking the same thing; that they’ve been here before, that they’ve been happy. They’re at a crossroads, weighted with the possibility of which road their lives will careen down and just how drastic the crash will be. It ends in either pure, sublime happiness or crippling, profound despair, there is no in-between. 

But Loki meant what he said. Even with the pressing gravity of what the future holds, there is no sense in stressing over it, for they have no control over it. He knows not what tomorrow will bring, but he knows today, and he knows now, and, now, he and Anthony are here, at home in their home, and things are okay. 

“We’ll be fine”, he whispers with more force than necessary and holds onto him until Anthony’s watch beeps and signals it’s time for him to leave.

For a time, the Tower is a ghost town. Following Loki’s reveal, the Avengers were put on notice to be on their “best, upmost behavior”. Charity appearances, hospital visits mostly, with some of the more controversial of their lot contained to the Tower along with him. Loki goes to the Main Suite, craving some company, but he finds it to be empty, and, not wanting to intrude upon the privacy of his fellow “deviants”, he settles for remaining where he is and putting on a film. 

He’s not lonely. He’s said that far too many times in his life, and far too many times, it wasn’t true. But as he settles upon the red loveseat, tugs a blanket around him, and smiles as logos pop onto the screen, he realizes that this time, he means it. Loki’s alone, sure, but there’s a comfort in it, a sort of confidence. Being pleased with his own being, not needing to seek out the reassurance of someone else’s presence.

It’s a strange feeling. Where he once found discomfort and disgust at being alone with himself, he now finds warmth, a pleasure; odd, what preparing for death and despair can do to a person but if it can leave him this content, well, he’s not complaining.

The afternoon passes, casting skittering shadows and lights across the walls, and Loki doesn’t move, summoning bowls of popcorn and cans of soda to him. It’s a lazy Saturday, indeed, and he thinks there’s a sort of honor in that. 

After rewatching half of the original Star Wars trilogy, Loki grunts, stretches his arms above his head, and glances down at his mess of popcorn kernels, empty soda cans, and packages of candy. He laughs sheepishly and rises to his feet, using his magic to scoop the crumbs into his bowls. Once he’s gathered his mess, he sighs, adjusts the bowls in his arms, and starts to walk towards the kitchen. 

He’s just finished emptying out the bowls when a faint pain blooms in the back of his neck. Loki frowns, wipes a hand up and down the area, then turns his attention back to the bowls, walking over to the sink and turning on the water. He picks up the sponge, hums a tune his mother sung to him as a child, and drags the spotted bowl beneath the water, watching as trails of soapy water run along the side. As he’s reaching for the second bowl, the pain increases and disperses up and down his spine, ricocheting throughout his ribcage like an erratic bolt of lightning. Loki gasps, and the bowl falls from his hands. Before he can snatch it back within his grasp, his veins set fire, and his bones shatter. He cries out and crumbles to the floor, his eyes flashing red  _ as the kitchen fades to grey and his body is jolted several leagues forward until he’s floating in a sea of zerospace. _

_ “What”, Loki pants out, gritting his teeth as he whips his head from side to side. “What the hell?” _

_ The space around him is swirling, twirling slowly like a cyclone that’s been enticed to slow its plans for destruction. He can see big, bright spots of white revolving like active little stars and orbs of black orbiting about them; as a backspace, there’s grey, oozing, dripping, like someone’s taken a pail of water and tossed it upon a wall. When Loki goes to lift an arm, his very molecules screaming with pain, he finds himself to have slowed down as well and marvels as his glamour flickers between Jotun, Aesir, and Lila. _

_ “You have nothing to fear, my pet”, a crooning voice calls out from the void. On instinct, Loki finds himself drawing towards it, seeking it out, until he puts a face to the voice. Loki inhales and slowly, slowly, turns around.  _

_ “Thanos”, he whispers, eyes darting about the field of grey.  _

_ “Ah, so you haven’t forgotten about me.” The voice; it’s everywhere and nowhere. It scares Loki just how comforted he is by that fact. “You’ve just abandoned me.” _

_ “What do you want?” Loki closes his eyes and clenches his hands; he calls out to his magic, desperate and panicked, but he can’t sense it. His panic intensifies, and he forces himself to take a breath, crying out in his head for the familiar, lively touch of his magic, but it’s gone. He’s alone.  _

_ “You sound troubled”, Thanos says, and, suddenly, there’s a massive hand upon his shoulder. “I thought you’d be happy. I know it took me some time, but I’ve finally arrived. Here to save you from that petulant human and that defective mind of yours.” _ __  
_ “I don’t need saving”, Loki retorts bitterly, but his voice is wobbly, his hands are shaking, and he’s pressing back against him. Loki chokes and turns around, blinking back tears at the swell in his chest as he lays eyes upon the man he once loved more than himself. “I don’t need you.” _ _  
_ __ “Oh, pet.” Thanos hums and lifts his hand to cradle Loki’s head within its giant grasp. “Still so lost; still so foolish. And after all this time, too.” He lowers his hand, wraps his fingers around Loki’s waist, and lifts him so that they see eye to eye. “You are in need of guidance now more than ever.” He brings his other hand forward and goes to brush Loki’s bangs out of his face, but Loki just flinches, squeezing his eyes tighter and turning his head in the opposite direction. 

_ “Oh, now, there’s no need for these games”, Thanos coos. “This dalliance you have with that mortal? It’s just a phase, my sweet. I know what you crave, what you love. You know I can give it to you, give it all to you, so why do you protest?” He drags a fingers up and down Loki’s stomach, smiling as the tears break past his eyelids. “Come back to me, Loki. Remember all the fun we had? Remember how happy we were? We could have all that again if you just come back to me.” _ _  
_ _ He can see it. He can see it so clearly because for so long, it was all he was capable of seeing. Thanos, the one and only man who could love him, but only if he carried out “just a few favors for him”.  _

_ He’d been young then. Still very much full of self-loathing but also hoping against all hope to just find someone, find someone who could treat him as something other than a mistake, something that could warrant more than disgust and hatred. And he had. In Thanos, he found everything he’d ever wanted and then some. He found pleasure and pride and, later, power and control and hatred, not just for himself but for everything. And with all of that, there was no limit to what the two of them could do.  _

_ His eyes fly open, and he gasps, trembling so forcefully he’s afraid he’ll knock his molecules out of place. “No”, Loki squeaks out. He frowns and shakes his head. “What we had was...it was not good. It was hunger and hatred and madness and pain. It was awful.” Tears rise once more, and he chokes out, “I was awful, we were awful, and the people we hurt-” Loki wipes the back of his hand over his face. “I will have no further part in it. You’d do good to leave it behind as well.” _

_ Thanos grins. He crouches and sits on the ground, petting Loki on the head and leaving the hand to linger; the weight is almost too much to bear, but Loki would rather die than show it. “You always were easily misguided. All you need is someone to show you the slightest bit of attention, and you forget all that you are.” _ __  
_ “Well, perhaps I needed a little forgetting.” Loki squirms in his hand until Thanos lets him go, then takes a few steps back, mustering up the will to glare at him. “Maybe I needed someone to come along and jolt me a few times.” _ _  
_ __ Thanos tilts his head, smiles. “You don’t mean that.” As he says this, the glowing spots of white begin to dim, their light fading until just a speckle of warmth remains. The black orbs grow bigger, darker, and the greyspace begins to shimmer, warble. Loki wraps his arms around himself and stares at his surroundings, feeling, for all his worth, like a small, little boy at a banquet watching as throes of strangers overlooked him in favor of entertaining his family. 

_ “You need someone to take care of you”, Thanos continues softly, a black orb passing his face like an eclipsing sun and moon. “And who better to do so? Who knows you better than I?” Loki opens his mouth to protest, but Thanos just shushes him, folding up a finger to demand silence. “Who knows the real you better than I?” _

_ He’s drowning. The greyspace, it’s enveloping him, gripping him like an octopus wrapping him in its arms and dragging him deeper and deeper beneath the surface until he can no longer picture what the world above looks like. Loki turns his gaze to the floor and sucks in his lower lip. _

_ “I am not doing this again”, he states quietly. “I will not again succumb to that nature.” _ _  
_ _ “Pet.” Thanos chuckles. It’s a deep, dark laugh, one Loki’d thought he’d purged from his memory and tossed into the deep abyss of shame and repentance. But as the rich sound meets his ears, Loki finds himself reminded of earlier days, past times, former lives, and Thanos seems to understand this because he just keeps on laughing, drawing closer and closer as the room gets dimmer and dimmer until he’s looming over Loki, picking him up once more, and cradling him to his chest. To Loki’s revulsion, he doesn’t even try to run away.  _

_ “I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter. Besides, it’s not like you have any other nature” Loki stares ahead, watching as the light slowly dies out, wheezing with each panicked, lurching surge of light against the all-consuming blanket of darkness overwhelming them. “Just you wait, my sweet; I’ll be coming for you soon. And everything will be as it should be.” Lips appear beside his head, and Loki slams his eyes shut, choking down a sob as the arms encaging him give way and he falls and falls and falls.  “As it always should have been.” _

“Loki.” Small, lithe fingers gingerly settle upon his forearm. “Loki, I need you to breathe for me.”

Loki purses his lips and clenches his hands. His chest feels tight, constricted. 

“Loki. Breathe.”   
Why can’t he breathe?   
“Loki, whatever it is, you can deal with it later. But right now, you need to breathe.” The voice gets a little bit softer and the fingers a little bit gentler; they squeeze, the familiar pulse of magic lures Loki from his thoughts and to the present. His magic reacts to it, fleeting and meek, but it’s returned, and the other wielder sighs, pushing theirs further onto him until Loki can bring himself to take in a shaky, deep breath.

“That’s it. Just keep at it.”   
There’s magic wrapped around him, warm, rising and falling like a gentle pod of jellyfish protecting him from the horrors of sea. With each breath, he feels stronger, more present, more grounded. At last, Loki opens his eyes and breathes, staring down at the frozen stream of water at his hands. The sink has flooded over and been turned to ice. All around him, there are icicles and snowflakes and bitter winds. He gulps and with a wave of his hand, the ice melts, leaving behind puddles of water and a waterfall cascading over the sink.

Wanda’s staring worriedly, hands glowing red. 

“Loki.” Loki turns to his left and finds Wanda standing there, still holding his arm. Her hands and eyes are red, and the sight gives him as much comfort as it does pain. “Are you all right?”

His eyes settle on the window before him. Throughout it, he can see the city, soft and sparkling as the fading sun of the afternoon casts rosey, golden rays upon the skyscrapers. It’s a beautiful, beautiful sight, and it makes his chest lurch with the thought of its imminent decimation looming on the horizon. 

“He’s coming”, Loki whispers to the city.

Beside him, Wanda frowns. “Who? Who’s coming?”  But he can feel her magic tensing, growing cold and stiff. She already knows.

But he still has to say it, has to bring it to reality that this thing he’s been anticipating for the better part of a year has finally materialized and been molded into shape. Loki’s hands quiver. Ice settles upon his skin, and a puff of icy breath exits his mouth as he says, “Thanos”.

. . .

Word spreads quickly. notS.H.I.E.L.D. gets notified and removes all but Loki from the bench, relaying the message to their “out of service” members and space legion. If the Tower was empty before, it’s deserted now. Now, the Tower reeks of absence, of neglect, of departure, and it only adds to Loki’s anxiety. He’ll never admit it, not when everyone’s so busy getting their affairs in order, but Loki doesn’t want to be alone now. Not with Thanos’s mind seeking him out in the late hours of night and the memories of their escapades coming back to him like some unrelenting cancer.

It’s only been a few hours since Loki’s vision when Anthony appears outside his bedroom room, moonbeams skittering across the metal of his armor and streaming out to the irises of Loki’s eyes. Loki inhales sharply and scrambles out of bed and over to the window to press a palm to the glass. In an instant, Anthony’s stepping into the room and out of his suit, wrapping his arms around him and slamming into him. 

“He’s back”, Loki whispers, pressing his chin into his head. 

“I know. Baby, I know.”

Loki shakes his head. He pulls himself free of Anthony’s embrace and turns his back to him, laughing as he shakily runs a hand through his messy hair. “He’s back”, he repeats, feeling hysterical with the sudden giggles escaping him. “I knew he was coming because, obviously, he was coming, but I-I just didn’t think he’d come so soon. I was hoping-”   
“I know.”   
“Do you?” Loki whips around, suddenly furious; the room’s temperature dips at least thirty degrees, and he doesn’t pause to consider the shivers this draws from Anthony. “Do you know who I was? Do you know the things I’ve done? Because, I can assure you, if you did, you wouldn’t be nearly as calm.”   
“Hey, hey, hey.” Anthony grabs hold of his arms and squeezes, squeezes until his hands burn and begin to chip away at the coatings of ice that lay there. “Come on. We’ve talked about this”, he says as the fire goes out of Loki’s eyes. 

“No, we haven’t.” Loki leans into his touch and sighs. “Anthony”, he says, images of twisted bodies and broken planets flickering behind his eyelids. “I’ve done some awful things.”   
“Loki-”

“And I thought I’d gotten past them, but he’s back now, and it’s like nothing’s changed.”   
“Don’t talk like that.” Anthony’s grip grows stronger, and he frowns, pulling Loki close until the temperature levels out to a lukewarm state. “You don’t have to be afraid”, he whispers into his ear. “He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

“I’m not afraid he’ll hurt me”, Loki whispers back; he presses his face into Anthony’s neck and breathes, breathes until he’s drunk on his scent and can almost forget about the specks of white and grey that have been following him since this afternoon. “I’m afraid he’s in my head again.” His cheeks turn a deep tint of blue, and he looks away, shame settled deep in his being as his mind is bombarded with fleeting images of his past. 

“He can’t get to you”, Anthony says stubbornly. He digs his nails into the skin of Loki’s forearms. “Not while I’m here.”   
Loki wants to believe him. He wants so desperately to believe him. Hell, just twelve hours ago, he would have believed him, might’ve actually been the one convincing Anthony that he wasn’t in danger of falling off the edge again. 

But it’s twelve hours later, and Loki’s back at that cliff, teetering at the edge like he’s lost all semblance of balance. For all the hope and all that happiness that Loki’s grown to know these past few months, there is one thing that he knows for certain: Thanos is coming, and he won’t leave without Loki at his side again. Loki wants to believe that they can survive this, but he’s looking to the future, and all he sees is his past reflected back at him like a shattered mirror, and, no matter how he tries to rearrange the jagged pieces, he needs them all, and the final result will always, always be a mangled, horrid mess.

“We’re gonna get him”, Anthony murmurs, brushing a hand against the back of Loki’s head. Loki should lean into it, should be seeking his presence out like a kitten burrowing into the soft comforts of its mother’s stomach. But Anthony’s petting his head, and all Loki can think about is Thanos, condescending and intoxicating; it feels like the touch of a ghost, like something that once was but now remains only as a sad, disintegrating replica of something sweet and cherished.

And that, in and of itself, is terrifying.

“Come on. Let’s get some sleep.” Anthony takes his hand and guides them to bed. Loki doesn’t protest because, after a day like this, he just wants to be held and guided and taken care of and relieved of his worries, even if they remain present.

“Loki?” 

Loki looks up as he’s crawling beneath the sheets and wrapping his arms around Anthony’s middle; he presses his chest to Anthony’s back and hums. “Yes?”   
“You’re gonna be okay.”   
Loki closes his eyes. He presses his lips to the back of Anthony’s neck and, with a snap of his fingers, turns off the lights about their room. “Good night, my love.”   
“...Night, Lokes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So important news. There will still be updates for the next few weeks, but it's gonna be a bit funky so keep reading.  
> Soooooooooo we're getting pretty close to where I stopped writing and I honestly don't know how to end this, so the ending's gonna be a bit of a cliffhanger. I won't spoil it, I already have it written, but I've kind fallen out with this fic (for a number of reasons) and don't really have the energy in me to finish beyond what I've already gotten written. We've got another twenty or so pages left so, again, no need to jump ship just yet but be on the lookout because we are in the endgame now.


	17. 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So I fucked up the last chapter but it's fixed now. The repeat is deleted, and there's an extra section at the end that I forgot to put so go check that out. Sorry and thanks for letting me know about it!

The next few weeks are hell. Midgardian security is on high alert, and Loki spends an unfathomable amount of hours pledging his allegiance to Midgard and assuring them all that his relationship with Thanos has long since ended. Anthony and the Team are busy battling public opinion and an increasing number of hostiles throughout the country (and elsewhere, if requested or allowed). Loki, Wanda, Bruce, and Bucky still aren't allowed to leave the Tower. The latter three, they're cordial enough, inviting him to movie nights and the like, and Loki's anxious enough to take them up on it. Under differing circumstances, it might've been a kind, sweet affair, but, as it stands, most of these meetings just reek of shame, bitterness, and depression. Loki should really just start turning them down, but they're all such a dispirited lot that, even in his own wallowing, Loki can't find it in himself to turn them down.

"They'll handle it", Bucky murmurs quietly, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. "They always have." He sets aside Clint's china, his hands trembling as he carefully handles the delicate set.

Loki watches him, weary and exhausted. He taps his fingers against the surface of the table and shakes his head. "They've never handled Thanos", he can't help but note.

Bucky juts his hands down at his sides and sighs. He turns to look to the living room, where Bruce and Wanda have set the TV to the nine o'clock news. He gnaws at his lips, then slams the cabinet shut and turns back to Loki. "Sitting here sulking isn't gonna change anything."  
"Well, pardon me, my friend, but just what the hell else am I supposed to do?" Loki narrows his eyes and clenches his fists, inhaling sharply as he thinks of Anthony, once again, on the front lines without his aid. "We're prohibited from assisting when we could be a colossal aid to them. Forgive me if I'm a little frustrated."  
Bucky takes a seat at the other end of the table. "I get it", he sighs. "It sucks."

"It's idiotic", Loki seethes, slamming a fist against the table. His cup of water jumps, and he huffs, freezing the water within the glass. "We need everyone we can spare to fight him, and they're limiting the universe of some of their best." He wipes his hand over his face and huffs. "We've all got people out there. And they just expect us to-to what, sit here and hope for the best?"  
Bucky gives him a sad smile. "You get used to it."  
Loki narrows his eyes. "Fuck that."  
"Amen. But I mean, if they find out we're running around without their approval, it's only gonna make things more heated; the best we can do is let them take care of it and help when they need it."  
"They do need it."  
"You know what I mean."  
Loki doesn't say anything. Bucky raps his knuckles against the table, then stands, squeezing his shoulder as he passes by him. On his way out, Banner walks in, nodding to him before walking over to the fridge.

Loki purses his lips and stares into his frozen glass of water. "Any word?"  
"No, not really." Banner walks over to the counter, makes himself a cup of coffee. "Thor says they're running into more of those...Jabberwockies. And there's been a surge in atmospherical distress...everywhere."  
"Hm. Uh." Bruce takes a seat across from him, and Loki fights to keep the scowl from forming on his face. It doesn't seem to make much difference, though, because Banner's staring at him like he's seen right through him.

"Did you need something", Loki murmurs, turning his gaze back to his glass. He flexes his fingers, and the ice dissolves, overflowing the cup with a surplus of water.

"No." Banner shifts in his seat and tugs at his collar. Good. At least Loki isn't the only one uncomfortable. "Look. I, uh, well, with the universe back on the chopping block, I figured now's as a good a chance as ever to get this out."

Loki raises an eyebrow. "Well?"

Banner scratches the back of his neck and heaves out a sigh. "It's about Tony."  
Oh.

_Oh._

"There's no need for this", Loki says, rising to flee back to his floor. "It's in the past-"  
"Come on, man." Banner stands as well and follows after him as Loki weaves his way through the living room and the halls.  
Loki shakes his head. He really doesn't need nor does he want to listen to this. "Anthony and I have had many thorough, enlightening discussions on this matter", he says stiffly. "I think I have a firm understanding of it. You've nothing to explain." He comes upon the elevator and exhales, reaching for the button, only to have his hand jerked back and his body pulled towards Banner.  
"Loki", he says, sounding exasperated. "Just...hear me out. Okay?"

Loki narrows his eyes, the hairs along his arm bristling from the doctor's touch. "You have five minutes. Don't waste them."

"Okay. Okay." He removes his hand from Loki's forearm and shuffles his feet, calmly holding Loki's eye. "I'm sorry for overstepping with you and Tony. I didn't realize just how...close you guys were."  
Loki purses his lips. He stares at Banner, cold and unyielding, before eventually exhaling and crossing his arms over his chest. "To be fair", he admits, pressing his back to the wall. "We weren't exactly certain of our relationship at first either. And as Anthony tells it, you were...involved long before I came into the picture."  
"Yeah but." Banner shrugs. "I knew you guys weren't just friends. I should have distanced myself."  
Loki smirks. He looks over at Bruce and tilts his head in acquiescence. "I guess we have all our regrets", he says.

Banner smiles. "Yeah, I guess so." He turns to look back to at the kitchen, then back to Loki, extending a hand as he jerks his head back to the main foyer. "Come on", he says. "Let's go catch a movie." Loki pulls a face, and Bruce rolls his eyes before continuing. "Unless you have something better to do?"  
Well, wallowing in his misery and worries is pretty time-consuming. But it's also energy-consuming, and Loki's trying to save as much of that as he can should his assistance be requested. Loki nods, accepts Bruce's hand, and allows himself to be lead back to the living room. Wanda and Bucky make room for them on the couch, the latter giving Loki a confused but pleased expression; they've turned from the news, settling on some drama or another. It's a bit too dramatic for Loki's tastes, amazing as that is, but it's interesting enough for him to be able to take his mind off things. Halfway through, Loki turns to look at Bruce, only to immediately see him look away, and he realizes that was probably his goal all along.

 _Okay_ , he decides.  _This could be okay._

_. . ._

"Let's go out."  
Loki looks up from his book to Anthony, who's standing before his closet, looking deep inside like he's searching for something. He sets his book down, cocks his head to the side, and smiles. "What?"  
"Let's go out." Placing his hands on the doors to the closet, Anthony then turns around and beams bright, sprinting across the room before jumping in bed beside Loki. Loki snorts, swatting at him before his arms envelop him and he begins trailing kisses up and down his neck. Despite himself, Loki giggles, snuggling into his embrace as he shakes his head at Anthony.

"I mean it", Anthony says; he snips at his neck, and Loki hums, twisting his head around to get a better look at him.

"Well", he begins. "You know I'd love that. But our superiors-"  
"Fuck our superiors." He reaches down to claim Loki's hand and pulls it up for a kiss. "J.A.R.V.I.S. knows how to manipulate the security settings, and, if anyone rings for us, they'll be directed to those holograms I programmed a few months back."

Loki smiles. He lifts hand to brush a thumb across Anthony's cheek, noting the twitchiness, the weariness, the anxiousness with each stroke. He likes his lips, then pulls Anthony closer, falling back onto the bed as he wraps his legs around him. "Darling", he murmurs quietly. "What's this about?"  
"Nothing. Nothing. I just." He presses back against Loki's chest and sighs. "I wanna spend some time with you, is that so wrong?"

 _Not if it means what I think it means_ , Loki thinks.  _Not if you're doing this because you're worried it's going to be the last time we get to be like this._  His heart lurches in his chest, and he squeezes Anthony tighter, face pressed against the back of his neck.

Loki doesn't want Anthony thinking like that. But what other way is there to think? More and more, he looks at Anthony, and he feels fear, fear that this wonderful, wonderful thing that he's found with him is going to be snatched away as quickly as it's come. The time's winding down for happiness, and, as much as Loki hates it, he isn't the only one that's had the realization. From the looks of things, Anthony's actually a step ahead, wanting to make the most of what little time they have left.

"All right." Loki shifts so that he and Anthony are side by side to lean against him. "Where would you like to go?"

"I dunno. Uh. Paris?" He laughs, then brushes a shaking hand through his hair. "No, no that's cliched. Uh, how about Egypt? I hear the pyramids are lovely this time of night. Or-or we could check out the Alps, book a lodge, go skiing, it'll be-"  
"Love." Loki grabs his chin and turns him to face him. "We don't have to pick."  
Anthony visibly relaxes, but he stares at Loki, confused. "Well, as great as a vaca across the world sounds, we've only got a few hours before I need to be gone again. And even I can't move that fast."  
"Hm. Maybe not." Loki closes his eyes. When he opens them, they're a fierce red, and there are speckles of gold surging across his skin. "But I can." Before Anthony can say more, Loki chuckles, takes hold of Anthony's hand and leans back, opening a portal before he can meet the bed. Anthony's eyes go wide as they fall through and come out in Paris, standing just outside of the Louvre Palace.

"Wow", he gasps. "Give a guy a little warning next time?" As he says this, he wraps an arm around Loki, staring, in awe, at the soft glow of the massive museum. Then he turns to Loki, and his eyes fill with just a little more wonder.

Loki leans in to peck their lips together, then squeezes his hand, grinning madly as he jumps and pulls them through yet another portal. There are more pyramids here, but they're larger than any he's ever seen, and even Loki has to take a moment to just be mesmerized by their presence.

"This is gonna be a helluva a night, isn't it", Anthony says, wrapping his arms around him.

Loki just smiles and leans back into him. Then he opens another portal and pushes them backwards. "Yes."  
They spend that night leaping through portals, dashing across the globe, never spending more than a few minutes in each spot. They're both tired, Loki can tell, but Anthony never requests a respite. On the contrary, he has quite a few suggestions, and, once he sees a portal, he rushes to it, clenching Loki's hand like it's a cliff's edge and pulls him through it. After three hours of teleporting, Loki pulls them into a space between times and just keeps them there, allows them to be enwrapped in each other's embrace for as long as they can.

"You come here often", Anthony asks, his cheek pressed into Loki's chest.

Loki huffs. "No", he says with a sad smile. "Maybe in some time, that can change."  
Anthony closes his eyes. "Maybe."

Maybe. Doesn't that just encompass it all? Because, after all, all they're really doing is really going on maybes, hoping, desperate, for absolutes in this great, big world of uncertainty.

This wasn't meant to last. From the very beginning, Loki's known something was to come along and wreck it all to ruin, be it Thanos or the actions of his own hand. Now that it's here, he isn't quite sure what to make of it, isn't sure if he wants to fight this out, fight for every second he has left with this wonderful man and his wonderful life, or surrender for fear of the pain that'll come when it's all eventually torn apart.

As he can hear what he's thinking, Anthony tilts his head back and looks up at him. "It'll be okay", he whispers, but even he sounds doubtful.

"What if this was all pointless", Loki replies. "What if it was all meaningless, what if we fought for nothing?"  
"It meant something to me. And I know it did to you, too."  
"Past tense. Past."  
"You know what I mean."  
Loki drops his glamour. He lets the natural chill of his body run freely and drift into Anthony's body, comforted in the lack of a shiver he sees from him. "He's gonna take it all", Loki says as Anthony turns to curl into him. "He's going to take, and he's going to burn it all to the ground. Do you understand that?"

"So, what?" Anthony raises his eyebrows, stubborn, challenging. "You wanna leave?"  
"I want to not die", Loki grits out. He squeezes Anthony's hand and shakes his head. "I want to be able to love you and not worry that our love is finite. I want to build a life with you."  
"I know. Baby, I know." His arm snakes around Loki, and he leans until he can press their foreheads together, puffs of warm air exuding from his mouth. "But you can't check out on me." Loki goes to pull away, but he just holds onto him. "If you run away, he's just gonna find you. Lokes, you know this."

"I can't." Loki takes a moment to inhale shakily and clench his fists. "I can't fight him. I never could."  
"You won't be fighting alone. You'll have us, you'll have all of us. You just gotta be here. Hey. Look at me." He stares deep into Loki's eyes and doesn't stop staring even when Loki eventually meets his stare. "This is your home too, now", he says, scooting close so that he sits in his lap. "You don't have to give it up."  
"There has not been one thing." He shakes his head. "Not a goddamn thing that I've ever been able to keep. Not with him in the picture. If I hadn't been trying to kill Thor, he'd've destroyed him a long time ago. Darling. This is what he does. This is what he is. He takes, and he takes, and he takes, and he just keeps on taking until there is nothing left." Hands come to wrap around his own, and Loki squeezes them, tight, hard, like he's afraid they've unravel into dust if he releases the pressure. "If I leave, perhaps you all may survive."  
Anthony scowls. He squeezes right on back. "If you leave, maybe we all die, and then he comes for you, and then it really was meaningless. Loki." His face softens, and he looks so hopeful, so vulnerable it hurts. "Stay."

It hurts. It hurts so much because what are the choices? Leave the love of his life for a few extra months of life for them both or stay and get them all killed for something that was, from the start, doomed to fail? It makes Loki think back to before his capture, before he met Anthony, but even that hurts because the thought of never having this with Anthony hurts more than any torture Thanos could ever dream to dish out on him.

"Stay", Anthony says once more, and the decision, though certainly not easy, comes quickly.

"Okay."

. . .

_"Tell me. Do you really believe he loves you?"_

_Loki blinks. From where he sits in his chair, he cranes his neck to look at their bed, where he and Anthony sit intertwined beneath the sheets. He doesn't miss a beat. "Yes."_   
_Thanos crouches beside him. He smiles. "And, let me guess." He chuckles and shakes his head. "You believe that you love him?"_   
_Loki keeps his eyes trained on Anthony, refusing to be poked and prodded into interaction. "More than anything."_

_"Oh. You silly, silly boy."_   
_Anthony murmurs something in his sleep. Loki's too far away to be able to make out just what it is, but the sight of it, the familiarity of it, comforts him. He knows this. He knows this is real, knows this is true. "What do you want of me", Loki asks him._

_"I want what you promised me all those years ago. I want you, as mine, sitting beside me, as I govern the universe."_   
_"You will ruin it." Loki clenches his hands into fists, icy smoke rising from them. "You will ruin me."_   
_His mind finishes the sentence long before Thanos does. "Dear Loki." He maneuvers a giant hand to press against his back. "You were dragged to ruin long before you shambled onto my doorstep." Subconsciously, Loki presses back against him. When he realizes what he's doing, he grits his teeth and scoots away, wrapping his arms around himself as he bores his eyes into the calming side of himself cradling Anthony in his arms._

_"With me", Thanos continues, undeterred. "You might actually make something of your life."_   
_Loki swallows. He bites his lip and inhales. From where they lie in bed, you wouldn't think the threat of the end of the world loomed over their heads; they just look like lovers, enwrapped in their love for each other; calm, at peace, in love._

_Maybe this was never meant to last. Maybe they were never meant to be. But if Loki plays this right, there's a chance Anthony could have this again. Painful as it is to admit, Anthony is full of charm, and it's not like he hasn't his fair share of admirers. Banner. Miss Potts. Rhodes. He'll have people there to help him heal in Loki's departure, and, after some time, perhaps they could become something more. Something to make the rest of his days all the more bearable. "...If I go with you", Loki says, all but deflating. "Will you spare him? He and his world?"_   
_"Pet-"_   
_"That's all I ask." His voice trembles, inelegant for one who's supposed to be making demands. "Mercy, please. Just this one thing, this one planet. That is all I request."_   
_"My sweet. When have I ever not been merciful?" He stands then, towering over the room, over the city, over their bed. It feels invasive, and the thought has hardly finished forming before Loki realizes Thanos knows this. "Their lives", Thanos says, sounding disinterested. "Their simple, pitiful, trivial lives, will be spared. If you join me."_   
_Loki wrings his hands together. He turns and looks up at him._

_"Loki, of Jotunheim." He sticks out his hand. "Will you join me?"_

_He promised. He looked Anthony in the eye, Anthony with his big, doe-like eyes, and he promised that he wouldn't leave him. But what's the point of upholding a promise if it's just going to get the love of his life killed?_

_Loki reaches out and accepts his hand, his stomach churning as Thanos folds his gigantic fingers over it. He pushes down his discomfort, tilts back his head, and nods. "Yes."_

_. . ._

The shower flicks off, and the door creeps open. Minutes later, Anthony steps out, buttoning up his shirt.

Loki sits on the edge of their bed, his shoulders drooping. He's staring out the window, where millions of people mill about, unaware of the catastrophe that looms over their heads.

He doesn't remember the last time he's felt this tired.

"Loki." Loki doesn't answer, and Anthony purses his lips. Still fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, Anthony walks over to the bed and cocks his head to the side. "I'm leaving now", he says, leaning over to softly brush their lips together. He squeezes Loki's shoulder. "I'll be right back."

Loki gives him a thin smile. He presses the back of his hand against Anthony's cheek, humming when Anthony presses further into the touch. Loki moves his hands until the tips of his fingers rest against Anthony's lips and leans forward, his eyes slow and particular as they take in every mole, every scar, every hair. "Goodbye, my love."  
Anthony presses his lips against Loki's fingers. Then he lifts his hand to take hold of them and pull Loki to his feet. "Don't say it like that", he mutters, watching him sadly.  
Loki blinks. Tiredly, he asks, "Like what?"  
Anthony wraps an arm around his waist, tugs him closer. "Like this is the last time we're gonna see each other."  
Well, shit. Loki's throat tightens. He licks his lips and wills a stronger smile onto his face, wrapping his arms around Anthony. Tight enough to signal reciprocation but not enough to give away his true intentions. "Darling, you know it's not. I just… don't know another way to say it."  
"Then don't say it at all."  
Loki snorts. He presses their foreheads together and smiles. "What would you have me say?"

Anthony gives his hand a firm, tight squeeze. "Anything but that."  
Loki stares down at their hands. He gulps, fighting back the words, the emotion, the betrayal, and forces himself to breathe. "Anthony", he says, finally looking back up.

Anthony, looking as tired as Loki feels, raises his eyebrows. "Yes?"  
This time, when he smiles, there's nothing fake behind it, only hurt. "I love you", Loki says with a laugh. The smile falls, and his shoulders sloop once more. He gives Anthony's hand a faint, weak squeeze, and shakes his head at himself. "So, so much."  
Tears gather in Anthony's eyes. He blinks them away and presses his lips together. "I'll be back", he whispers, lifting his free hand to brush a finger across Loki's cheek. "Just give me two hours, I promise you, I'll be back. We can watch that whale documentary you've been talking about."  
Loki nods. "You're a good man. I'm-I'm glad we found each other."  
Anthony's eye twitches. "J.A.R.V.I.S.'ll be here to look after you", he tells him pointedly. "If you...if you need anything."  
"I love you", Loki says again.

"I love you, too." Anthony tilts Loki's head back, captures his lips in a brutal, passionate kiss. He slips his tongue in between his lips, and Loki's eyes fall shut; he groans, wrapping his arms around Anthony so tight, he's afraid he could hurt him. Anthony's hand are everywhere: his throat, his ass, his sides, his cheeks. Everywhere he touches is alite with fire, and Loki knows his touch is the same, sending icy chills and whispering frosts over his lover's skin. By the time they've broken apart, Loki's skin is a bright pink, and his Anthony's a light blue; they're both panting, staring deep into the other eyes and willing for these next two hours to go as smoothly as they so desperately need them to.

Anthony grabs him by the scruff of the back of his neck. Then, breathing in sharply, he presses his face into his chest. "Don't you go checking out on me", he says, the words choppy and airy. "You hear me?"  
Loki nods. He presses his lips against Anthony's head, breathing in the scent of his earthly shampoo, savoring it. "I love you", Loki tells him.

_And I'm sorry._

. . .

"You made the right choice, little one." Thanos smiles down at Loki, then turns to stare out the window of his ship. "But then again, there never was really any doubt, was there?"

Loki purses his lips. He takes a clump of his shirt in his hands and stares down at it. It's one of Anthony's, one with a picture of a disco ball. Silly, yes, but it was the one closest within his reach, and it smells the most like him. Thanos gives him a look, and Loki lets the fabric fall from his fingers, shuffling his feet as he summons his armor and his helmet onto himself. Thanos nods, and Loki takes a small comfort in the feel of the greasy shirt beneath his armor.

He feels papery, brittle, like a gust of wind could come along and swoop him up with little to remember him by. He must look odd, standing being a being that exudes such confidence, such infinity. Once upon time, Loki would have considered them the perfect couple. Now, he looks back upon himself and wonders how he ever could have been so enamoured by such a horrid man.

"Are you ready to remake the world in our light", Thanos says as their ship draws nearer to the earth.

Loki swallows down the rising bile in his throat. He blinks, pulls his arms behind himself, and pushes all thoughts of Anthony and the Avengers and earth out of mind. "I'm ready."


	18. 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change in perspective  
> (literally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, peoples!   
> I go back to school Monday. I plan to continue this, just not on Saturdays because I have classes on Saturday, and it's just gonna stress me out, so updates will be moved to Fridays. Things might be a bit hectic since I'm taking on more classes than I did last year but please bear with me. We're gonna see this story through as far as we can, it's gonna be awesome.   
> Also, somewhat irrelevant, but I legit cannot believe that Sony and Disney are getting a divorce, I need that shit resolved YESTERDAY.   
> But even if it isn't, I am kinda excited to see Pete, Ned, and MJ potentially playing on Sony's playground. Could be nice.

“Tony.”

One by one, the lights to the workshop flicker on. Tony’s already anticipating the assault on his eyes, but he still winces when the light above him blinks to life, swiping his hand in front of his face. “You could warn a guy”, he murmurs as he sits up in his chair.

Rhodey purses his lips. He walks over to him and sits on his desk, eyes soft and solemn as he says, “I did. I called your name three times.” 

Tony looks away, staring down at his fingers. 

“It’s been three days, Tony.”   
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”   
Rhodey just watches him. His eyes turn to the table before him, where cans of RedBull and soda lie, trickling faint streams of sugary conquest onto the counter. “When’s the last time you ate something”, Rhodey asks, taking hold of his arm. Tony doesn’t move, pout in place. Rhodey gives him a pointed look, and Tony sighs, begrudgingly slipping out of his seat to be lead towards the mini fridge. 

“When’s the last time you ate”, Rhodey repeats, tossing a half-eaten tuna sandwich his way.

“I dunno”, Tony mumbles. He peels back the plastic wrap and takes a bite. “Yesterday morning?” All things considered, it’s not too bad. He’s gone longer. Rhodey must be thinking the same thing because the taut muscles in his face relax. He reaches into the fridge, pulls out a sandwich of his own, and begins to eat beside him.

Tony wants to be annoyed. But after working nonstop for going on four days, not to mention the PR conferences and Avenging business for two weeks straight, it’s kind of nice to just sit back and eat a sandwich. More so, it’s nice to see a friendly face.

He knew it was coming. He’d’ve had to have been looking elsewhere to not see it coming. Ever since that damn meeting with notS.H.I.E.L.D., Loki’s been twitchy, antsy, always looking over his shoulder, always expecting the worst. And these past weeks weeks, he’s been worser than Tony’s ever seen him, hardly sleeping, barely eating, drifting off in conversation. Loki was gone long before he took that final leap back into Thanos’s arms, but when Tony got the notification of Loki’s departure, it hurt as if he’d never conceived of such a thing happening. 

It hurt. Because they were supposed to be in this together. And now more than ever, Tony can’t help but feeling abandoned.

“Thor, Wanda, and Strange are busting out all their magical books on a location spell”, Rhodey’s murmuring, a patch of mustard sticking to his mustache. “Banner and T’Challa are using their satellites and tech. And notS.H.I.E.L.D.’s got their best guys looking out for suspicious activity everywhere from Alaska to Mars.” He swipes a thumb over his moustache, gathers the mustard, and licks it away. Tony smiles, and Rhodey smiles back, and says, “We’re gonna find him.”   
Tony shakes his head. He swallows the last of his sandwich, accepting the bottle of water Rhodey passes to him with a quiet “thank you”. Then, following Rhodey to the fold-out couch in the corner, he sighs and says, “Finding him’s not the problem, Rhodey. It’s convincing him to stay.” 

He and Rhodey settle on the couch, pulling up the extended section to kick up their feet. Rhodey reaches into his pocket to pull out a Crunch bar, eyeing Tony sadly. “That bad, huh?”   
Tony nods. “He mentioned something once”, he explains around a mouthful of sandwich. “About sacrificing himself to keep earth safe, to keep us safe. But even aside from that, he and Thanos.” He closes his eyes, his heart lurching about in his chest as he thinks of Loki, clinging to his chest late at night, whimpering, calling out his name, casting sheaths of frost over their room. Tony swallows, pushes the image away, and opens his eyes. “Whatever they had”, he continues shakily. “It was intense, it was strong, it was… it scared him.”

Fear. It’s the only plausible reason he could think of for Loki to return to that psychopath. Fear for Tony’s life, as opposed to his own. It’s a passionate, pathological need that Tony understands far too well, the need to put the safety of his loved ones before himself. He knows it like he knows his name, knows it like a first, second, and third nature, but the familiarity serves little to comfort him. For all his walls, all his secrets, all his brittleness, Loki cares a damn good lot about life. He just doesn’t extend that same courtesy to himself. And with Thanos rearing his ugly head, Tony can’t say if Loki’s treating this partnership like a means to an end or the endgame. 

“On the off chance that we can find him”, Tony whispers, his grip on his water so tight water’s begun to spill onto his fingers. “I’m not so sure we’re gonna be able to keep him.”

Rhodey looks at him. “We’ll get him back”, he tells him. Tony goes to protest, but Rhodey just shakes his head, his eyes narrow as he balls up the plastic wrap from his own sandwich, and turns to face him. “He loves you. Enough to leave, to go back to that piece of shit and put up with him for all of eternity apparently. Do you really think that, when we find him and you ask him to stay, he’s gonna turn you away?”   
Tony glares. He places his plate on the floor, pulls his feet up onto the couch, and props his head up on his fist. “He already has.”   
“Tony. Look at what he’s willing to do for you.”   
“This isn’t a matter of love anymore, Rhodey. It’s a matter of war.” He swivels his head to look at him. “And if nothing else, Loki’s always been ready for a fight.”

Before Rhodey can refute this, J.A.R.V.I.S. whirrs to life in the ceiling. “Sir”, he begins, sounding mangled. “Mr. Rhodes. Your presence is being requested by notS.H.I.E.LD.”

“Tell ‘em we’re busy”, Tony mutters miserably, rolling over onto the armrest. He tosses his arms over his face and sighs. “I need a nap.”   
Rhodey snorts. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“They’re saying it’s important.”   
“When isn’t it?” He looks between the crevice of his arms, eyes pleading as he catches Rhodey’s eye. 

“Hey, don’t look at me”, Rhodey says, rising to his feet. “I just came here to make sure you weren’t dead. Don’t be expecting any favors.”   
“I’m so tired”, Tony sighs as he sits up. “Can’t we just tell ‘em we got eaten by Jabberwockies in our sleep or something?”

Rhodey rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around him. “Come on”, he says with an eye roll.   
They take their suits and fly up to a notS.H.I.E.L.D. base a couple of miles south. Like before, they get a standard check and x-ray before they’re allowed admission, but there’s not much hassle aside from the standard routine. That is, until they get to the meeting at hand, and Tony becomes increasingly aware that the meeting’s not exactly in his favor. 

“You had to have noticed that he was becoming a flight risk”, a man with an unflattering pair of sunglasses says to him. “Or were you too busy making heart eyes and sniffing the roses with him to notice that?”   
“I’m sorry.” Tony chuckles and waves a hand his way, like he’s swatting at a fly. “Who are you? Are you important? Are you relevant?” He turns to face the table. “Does he even work here? I certainly don’t remember him, and, believe me, you guys are quite memorable.” He turns to Ivy, the blue-haired girl from their last meeting, and waves. “Hey, Ivy.”   
Ivy smiles. “Hey, Mr. Stark.”   
“Yes, Tony.” Nick presses his fingers into his temples and sighs. “He just recently completed the obligatory training and-”

“Recently?” Tony smiles, tapping his fingers against his chin. “Do you even know what we’re talking about?”   
The man gives him a cutting smirk. “I may not be that experienced”, he admits, sitting back to smugly examine him. “But at least I know not to hop on the dick of a guy who once tried to annihilate the planet.”

“Greene, that’s enough”, Nick says, tossing him a heated look. “One more comment like that-”   
“Are you sure you wanna do this”, Rhodey whispers, glaring at the mean faces staring at them. “You don’t owe them anything, you know?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” He gives a half hearted wiggle of his eyebrows, sighing softly at the hand that comes to rest on his shoulder. “Besides, this isn’t gonna go away. Might as well deal with it now.”   
“-just don’t understand why we haven’t arrested him yet”, Sunglasses is ranting. “He said he had it handled, he said we didn’t need to worry.” He gestures to the window behind them, brandishing the abandoned warehouse that was destroyed by another flocks of Thanos’s Owls. “Now, his boytoy’s ran back to his sugar daddy and started helping him with his chaos, and we’re the ones left to clean up his mess.”   
“Loki’s not helping him”, Tony cuts in. “He’d make a deal, but he’d never hurt earth.” The table falls silent. Heat crawls up Tony’s neck, and he huffs, flustered, as he turns away from them. “You know what I mean. He cares about-about this place. The only reason he left was to protect us; he wouldn’t willingly help him hurt us.”

“Willingly.” Louise taps his nails against the table and cocks her head to the side. “That’s the key word, isn’t it?” She drops her arms onto the table and clucks her tongue. “Mr. Stark”, she says placatingly, so sweet it makes the hairs on Tony’s arms bristle. “I don’t know the intricacies of your ‘relationship’ with Loki, and, to be honest, I don’t really care. But I think it’s clear to everyone that you obviously didn’t know him as well as you think you did.”   
“And you didn’t know him at all”, Tony says cooly. “So what makes you think you have any say in the matter?”   
Louise purses her lips. “Well, the fact that I’m on the committee that’s deciding which form of capital punishment will be conducted once we’ve brought him in. For one.” 

Dread pools in Tony’s stomach, coiling about his insides until it feels like he’s ready to burst. He turns to Nick, eyes wide and full of betrayal. “Did you know about this?”   
Nick sighs, tossing a glare at Louise before turning back to Tony. “We’re still discussing the matter”, he says calmly. “As of now, we’re at a stalemate.”

Sunglasses mutters something under his breath, and the man and woman sitting on either side of him each give him foul looks. It brings something of comfort to Tony to know Nick alone isn’t his only advocate on this committee. But it doesn’t ease his discomfort in knowing that even if they somehow miraculously bring Loki back from the deep end, there are still gonna be people arguing for his death. 

“Take a minute”, Rhodey says to him. 

Tony doesn’t argue. He stands, ignoring the clatter of his chair against the floor, and stalks out of the room. 

He presses his back to the wall and sinks to the floor, staring at the bracelet Loki gave him what seems like a lifetime ago. The gems, cold and glowing with Loki’s magic, are humming against his skin. If he tries, Tony can pretend it’s Loki, calling out to him, comforting him, consoling him.

Wherever he is. 

“Damn it, Lokes”, he says through gritted teeth. 

He doesn’t want to be upset. He doesn’t want to be angry. But things were going so well. They were okay, even if they were in the sights of a madman. 

And he just left. Loki left. Like he promised he wouldn’t. And Tony knows it’s a selfish thing, to be so hurt to have been abandoned when Loki could be experiencing all manners of torture, just to keep him and his world safe, but he hates this. He hates that Loki made this decision, he hates that they’re dealing with this separately, he hates that Loki put himself in danger to keep him safe. 

“Surprised you stayed.”   
Tony looks up from the ground and finds Nick standing beside him. He huffs, wraps his arms around himself, and turns away. “Rhodey’s my designated driver”, he murmurs with a shrug. 

“Right.” Nick leans against the wall, hands shoved into his pocket as he considers him. “You look like shit”, he tells him.    
“That seems to be the general consensus, yes.” Tony scratches at the scruff of his neck and glares up at him. “Don’t you have minions to direct?”

Nick just smiles. “You know as well as I that I’m not directing much of anyone these days.” His eyes turn wistful as he casts a glance to the meeting room. 

“So you’re a figurehead”, Tony says bitterly. Nick remains quiet, and Tony leans his head back, closing his eyes as he heaves a heavy sigh. “Sorry.”   
“No skin off my back.” He grunts, and then there’s the sound of him settling on the floor beside him. “If it means anything...I’m sorry, too.”   
Tony scoffs. “For what?”

“...Everything.”

Tony doesn’t open his eyes. Instead, he just inhales, takes hold of one of his bracelet gems, and rolls it between his fingers. 

“You’ve had a bad rap”, Nick continues quietly. “I’ll be the first to admit that I was worried when I found out you and Loki were together.”   
“And then?”   
“Then?” Tony can picture him tilting his head to the side, as if considering the thought. It makes him smile. “I guess I realized that he’s just as head over heels for you as you are for him. Kinda makes you question a guy’s motives, you know?”

At that, Tony’s smile turns tight. He opens his eyes to look over at him. “You can’t kill him”, he says, voice empty and airy, like he’s a ghost attempting to communicate across the veil. For all intents and purposes, he sure does feel like one. 

“You really care about him”, Nick asks, watching him like he would a startled animal. “Don’t you?”   
Tony looks down at the bracelet on his wrist. He pulls it free and places it in his palm, staring down at it like that will will Loki back to his side. His brows furrow, and he purses his lips, his breath coming out in breathy, shallow pants. “No matter what anybody says”, Tony begins shakily, willing himself to look at Nick, to get him to understand. “I know him. And he is not doing this for power or a chance to-to get back into Thanos’s pants. He’s doing this because he’s afraid, because he loves…” His voice cracks, and he chokes off, thinking of black and white dance floors and twirling teacups and the miles between two sides of a doorway. “He is not evil”, Tony continues, willing himself to continue. “And he is not gonna be put down like some rabid dog.” At this, his gaze turns stubborn, icy, unyielding. “I’m not gonna let it happen. I’m not gonna let anything happen to him.”

“I know”, Nick says, says it like he’s known it all along. Maybe he has. “I’ll do whatever I can to keep these guys from aiming for a needle. But it’s like I said, my presence here is more of a formality. There’s not much I can do.”   
“We could call in a favor from Hill”, Tony suggests hopefully, but he knows the answer even before Nick reveals it. Nick and Hill, they got off easy. Most former S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives were dropped the moment the helicarriers fell, denied any and all entrance into the reformed agency. Last Tony heard, she’s operating from some remote facility in Philadelphia. There’s not much Tony can legally ask of them.

“We’ll figure something out.” Tony raises his eyebrows, and Nick just smirks. “We may have been stripped of our status and our gadgets. But we’ve still got our heads.” He taps his temple. “And most of our connections for that part. Between the two of us, I’m sure we can scrounge up something to keep ‘em busy.”   
Tony’s shoulders sag. “Thanks, Nick.”   
Nick just shrugs. Before he can say more, the door to the meeting room creaks open, and out spills a number of matching grey suits. Amongst them, there’s Rhodey, glowering as he pushes past them and makes his way over to Tony and Nick.

“You good”, he says, extending a hand to the both of them.    
“Yeah”, Tony says with a sigh. He gives them both grateful smiles and nods. “Yeah, I’m good.” Tony turns then to look out the window. On the horizon, beside the moon, there rests Thanos’s ship, as it’s been for the past few days. Aside from the random release of a Jabberwocky here and there, there hasn’t been much sign of activity from the ship. The only sign Tony has that Loki’s even still alive is his bracelet, with his gems glowing a weak, flickering green. It’s a strong, noticeable contrast to the once fervent flash the gems emitted, making it hurt just as much as it comforts him to wear it. But Tony won’t abandon it. Because to abandon it would be to abandon Loki, and Tony’s nowhere near ready or willing for that. 


	19. 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last chat between Tony and Loki before it all goes to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really regretting my class schedule, I'm so tired 😔😔😔.  
> BUT ANYHOOSIES. Not much going on in this chapter, just some brief Frostiron before I don't even know what to call it, a climax? Are we past that? Anyway, hope y'all like it!

Not long after, they get word of a sighting of Loki in Chicago. The Team's supposed to fly there together, but Tony takes off, clearing the miles in between in just a few hours. He has little hope that Loki will have remained there in all that time, so imagine his surprise, his wonderful, wonderful surprise, when he descends upon that rooftop and finds him there, leaning over the railing and staring up and out at the city.

"Loki", Tony whispers, stepping out of his suit. Loki flinches, and his hands glow a furious green as he whips around, palm pointed outward. Then he notices it's Tony, and all tension goes out of his body. His eyes go wide, his stance relaxes, and his hand falls back to his side.

"Anthony", Loki breathes. Then his face contorts, with fear, guilt, panic, and he turns around, arms wrapped around himself as he frantically whispers, "You cannot be here. I'm not even supposed to be here".

"What-"  
"If he discovers I've left and finds me here with you…" He shakes his head, then maneuvers his hands to open a portal. But before he can, Tony calls forward his suit and flies in front of him, standing between the portal and Loki. Loki grits his teeth and closes his eyes. Tony reaches forward and grabs hold of his wrist.

"Loki", Tony says. "Loki, Loki, baby, look at me." He lifts his hands to Loki's face and stares into his eyes. Tony leans in close, choking down a cry of relief when Loki instinctively leans to meet him halfway. He brushes a lock of Loki's hair behind his ear, pushes down the momentary panic at the now unconcealed bruises marring his skin, and takes in a deep breath. "What are you doing?"  
Loki's eyes flood with tears. "I'm trying to protect you", he says quietly. "I'm trying to save you, I'm trying to save all of you!"

"I know. I know that. But come on. We talked about this. Hey!" Loki goes to turn away and winces at the sudden rise in Tony's voice.

 _Damn it, Thanos_ , Tony finds himself thinking.  _It's only been three days. What could you have done to him in three days?_  "I'm not mad", Tony says, forcing himself to lower his voice. "I just...I just don't understand. We agreed to do this together. You said you wouldn't walk out on me."  
"You make it sound so simple."  
"That's because it is simple. Lokes." Tony presses their foreheads together. "It doesn't have to be this way. You've got me, you've got people, willing to fight for you on this. You don't have to be with him."

Loki jerks away. He turns his back to him once more, eyes falling to where his portal, swirling and inviting, sits just inches away. "Why", he says on a whisper, looking back to him. "Why would anyone fight for me? After all that I've done, all that I've hurt-"  
"Stop that", Tony hisses. It hurts to see Loki like this. It always has, but after nearly two years of being together, Tony had thought he'd begun to help ease those thoughts. Two years of reassuring him, of helping him atone, of helping him commit to himself, and it took Thanos all of two weeks to rattle Loki to his foundations and lose all confidence in himself. In everything.

"Why do you care for me?", Loki asks, eyes shining with bewilderment. "When all I've ever done is bring you ill will?"

It's falling apart. Just that fast, without even moving a finger, Thanos has managed to turn everything they've worked for to ruin. Tony would be angry if he wasn't so hurt, so dismayed.  
"Loki." Tony takes Loki's hands in his own, squeezes until he can feel the chill bleeding from them. "You know I want you. You-you know I care about you. You know I love you! What the hell am I supposed to do, just let you go?"

Loki stares at him, eyes big and shoulders drawn like a miserable, washed-up puppy left out in the rain for too long. "You should have never had me in the first", he replies, voice trembling with emotion. "Anthony. You say you can forgive me for all that I've done. But you don't know what I've done. You don't know who I was. How could you love someone you don't know?"

"Who you were, what you've done, that doesn't sway who you are now. And it doesn't dictate how I feel about you." Tony can see it happening. Can see Loki retreating, withdrawing, surrendering; it makes him want to kick himself, angry for not having seen it earlier. It was all there, all the signs. He was just too hopeful, too naive, to want to see it. Loki's slipping between his fingers again, and Tony'll be damned if he doesn't at least try to stop it this time.

"Come home", Tony whispers brokenly. "Come home and tell me all about it. Everything, every little thing you've done, even if it's something stupid and petty from a hundred years ago. You come home." He gulps and pulls Loki closer, eyes brimming with tears with how petrified Loki looks. "And we'll just talk. We'll talk until you run out of things to tell me about, and then I'll tell you about the shit I'll done, and we-we can just sit there. Just don't-don't go, Loki."

"I will ruin you and everything that you love. Do you understand that?"  
"I understand that you're willing to sacrifice everything when I'm telling you you don't have to!" Loki wraps his arms around himself and looks away. Tony draws closer, wraps an arm around his waist, and licks his lips. "Loki. Listen to me. I want you here. With me in that stupid fucking Tower with all our stupid friends. Please."  
Beside them, Loki's portal continues to swirl. Bits and flakes of green peeling away, drifting on the wind like lonely, abandoned feathers. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony can see one such feather blowing onto his shoulder and melting into nonexistence. He can feel the energy dispersing into him, sending a shiver throughout his body. When the feathers fall upon Loki, they bear little effect, as if he's largely unaware of their presence. But he's aware of the portal, of, what he perceives, to be the only viable solution.

"You son of a bitch", Tony grits out, snatching his hands away. "You talked about me not being ready for 'us'. But the moment shit hits the fan, you have always been the one tuck tail and run."

For the first time that night, the fear within Loki's eyes fades, instead replaced with a simmering anger. His shoulders go taut, and his eyes flash red.

"Quiet now, huh? Just a minute ago, you were real eager to tell me about your fuckups."  
Loki's portal lurches in all directions. His eyes narrow as snow flurries begin to fall. "Go to hell, Anthony." He turns to the portal. But Anthony's faster. He jumps in front of him once more, tilting his head up and balling his hands into fists.

"You're not walking away from this", Tony says. "Not this time."  
Loki huffs. "What do you want of me?"  
"I want you to fucking fight!" Tony slices a hand through the air and laughs a bitter, mirthless laugh. "I want you to act like you give a damn, like this meant something to you!"

Loki's eyes go wide, incredulous as they stare out at Tony. "You're not serious", Loki scoffs. He tosses his hands down beside him, the flurries crossing over into thick gobs of snow. "I'm doing this because I give a damn!"

"No. You're running, and you're hiding. Because you're too scared of what'll happen if you stay. Well, newsflash, sweetums, this is what happens if you don't stay!"

Loki just stares at him. His eyes still have that tension brewing within them, but they've gone softer, less jagged. He crosses his arms across his chest and gives him a sideways glance. "And what exactly does that mean?"

Tony wets his lips. He scratches the back of his head, all but deflating as he watches him. "Nothing", he says. He takes a step forward. He doesn't go for Loki's hands, though. Not when he's this rattled. Not when he has so little trust in himself, let alone anyone else. "Nothing, babe, it means nothing." Loki blinks, and the guarded suspicion that remains in his eyes fades.

 _Okay_ , Tony thinks.  _The bomb's defused. Now what?_

Tony hazards another step forward. The gathering blizzard surrounding them howls, fierce and ferocious. But here, within the eye, it's all calm, faint, light snowflakes coming to rest upon their shoulders and powdering their hair. "Hey", Tony says, pausing just an inch away from him. "I am always gonna be here for you." His fingers twitch at his sides, wanting to ease, to comfort, to console. And hell if Loki isn't staring at him like he wants it, too. But they're treading on thin ice, and one false step, from either of them, could send them crashing through gellid, freezing waters. Slipping his hands into his pockets, Tony looks Loki in the eye and blinks, ever so softly. "Loki, I love you. But I can't do this on my own. I need you to meet me halfway."

"And I need you to be okay. Anthony." Loki takes the final step. But he doesn't take his hand. He just brushes them together, the backs of their hands to one another. It's closer, more intimate, more honest than they've been since Loki's vision. Painfully honest because Tony knows exactly what it means. "You and I", Loki murmurs, a sad, small smile teasing at his lips. "We just weren't meant to be."  
The fight was over before it even started. But that doesn't mean Tony's willing to stop swinging. "We are if we decide to be."

"I know. And I've already decided."

Anthony's eyes get to watering again. He blinks back the tears, but they fall anyway. He doesn't swipe them away. He just purses his lips and nods, turning to look at the skyline stretching beside them. "Just like that?"  
Loki's quiet for a moment. "Just like that."

Well, then.

Loki pulls back and turns. He leans over the railing, eyes captivated by Thanos's ship streaking across the moon. "From the moment I was born, I was destined for hell. And in finding Thanos, I fulfilled my prophecy." He shifts his foot; the movement sends the pants leg of his left ankle up, revealing the anklet Tony gave him that night after the gala. His crystals catch the light of the moon, sending a flare of blue-white splintering off and onto the reindeers dancing across his ankles.

"I'm a monster, Anthony, as I've always been", Loki's saying, his shoulders slumping as the fire accumulated in their argument fizzles out. "It's about time you realized that. Darling, my life is over." He turns to spare Tony one last glance and gives him a bittersweet smile. "But yours doesn't have to be."

Tony lowers his eyes. "You were never gonna stay. Were you?"

"I wanted to. Believe me, I wanted to."

"Well. Brownie points, I guess."  
Loki shifts so that the right side of his body faces him. From up above, Thanos's ship begins to send out a homing beacon, chirping like an overeager bird. Loki tenses, arms going to wrap around himself, and looks over at Tony. Tony just purses his lips.

"You'd better get going", Tony murmurs. "The Team's on their way, and it won't be long before he realizes where you've disappeared to."

Loki watches him, eyes sad and big. "Anthony. I-"  
"Just go", Tony says.  
And after a moment, he does.

. . .

The call isn't his own. Effective immediately, the Avengers are tasked with taking down the Mad Titan and his God of Mischief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we've got about two chapters left? Maybe? I'm still editing/finishing this, but I think we've got about two weeks left, which honestly kinda makes me sad but also happy cuz now I can focus on other shit!  
> Like those flashcards for astronomy and figuring out what the fuck is due for Psych but Imma try to work some time for fanfic in.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading and I can't wait to finish this out with y'all! Have a good weekend!


	20. 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who wants a reunion 😍😍😍?  
> (I'm literally a bitch, don't hate me)

“I think you enjoy this.”   
Loki sucks in a breath. He lifts a trembling hand to brush an errant strand of hair away from his face and averts his gaze to the floor, watching the shadows as Thanos’s figure comes into view. 

“It was not my intent to aggravate you”, Loki says quietly, gulping as his eyes trace the still shadow that’s swallowed his own. “I just...I just needed some air.”   
“Mm.” Thanos takes a seat in his chair, slowly and leisurely propping his head up with his fist. “I thought we agreed”, he starts, smiling down at the spinning earth before them. “That this time was going to be different. No tricks, no lies.” He extends his hand, and Loki takes his, for fear of what will happen if he doesn’t. “No secrets”, Thanos continues, at last turning to face him. He smiles, his eyes dim, empty of light, emotion. It’s familiar. Familiar and Loki thinks he should be grateful that things truly haven’t changed all that much. He isn’t sure he could endure it if they’d turned to the Conditioning he’s seen the Titan’s other pets go through. 

“You promised me submission”, Thanos says, dropping the facade of pleasantness. His smile falls so that his face matches the emptiness of his eyes. “And in return, I promised to abide by your...terms. Do you wish for me to go back on our agreement?”   
“No”, Loki squeaks out. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ellaine watching them, a smug smile upon his face. He expects as much. As Thanos’s favorite pets, they’ve never gotten along very well. Admittedly, her ire is not entirely unearned. Loki’s no saint, and, when he was actively attempting to gain Thanos’s approval, he turned to vile methods to do so, often at Ellaine’s expense. 

That’s how life was. Competing for his attention, his praise, his approval. He’s hurt her as much as she’s hurt him, and, to his revulsion, seeing her watch him so smugly, knowing that, in his absence, she’s become Thanos’s prize, makes Loki ache in an all too familiar way. 

It’s only been three days. Three days and he’s already falling back into place. 

“It won’t happen again”, Loki says, forcing his eyes away from Ellaine, but Thanos has already seen. A smile creeps onto his face, and he stares at Loki, his eyes alive with amusement. 

“Since your betrayal”, he says, spitting the word out like it’s a bitter spice. “Ellaine has more than proved herself a worthy second-in-command. Though your surrender is greatly appreciated, you surely must understand that you will have to work to regain your previous status.”   
Loki nearly bristles. His “status”. Leutinent is the official title, but it’s all just words, all talk, no substance. Loki was his pet, his whore, his plaything, powerful only because Thanos allowed it to be so. Looking back, Loki can’t imagine why he ever wanted such a title. Then he looks at Ellaine, twitchy and antsy, eyes darting towards Thanos’s every other second, and he remembers what preceded the title; the shame, the guilt, the self-immolation. Before Thanos, they were wretched beings, flailing throughout the galaxy in search of some meaning, some direction. And Thanos, the towering, magnetic being that he is, was there to provide it.

Only the Norns know how Loki managed to break free from his spell, but he supposes it doesn’t matter now. Now that Loki’s gone and ruined whatever life he could have had on earth, he’s right back where he started. Offering himself to the madman, because what else has he to offer? 

“I will not disappoint you”, Loki says, willing away the warble in his voice. “I will make you proud.”

Thanos smirks. “You will make who proud?”

Loki bites the inside of his cheek. “I will make you proud. Master.”

“Good.” With that, Thanos waves Ellaine over. Her head held eye, Ellaine saunters over to them, hips swaying from side to side as approaches them. Thanos, Loki can’t help but notice, watches her, a deep-suited hunger in his eyes.

_ He used to look at me like that _ , Loki thinks, and he winces. Then,  _ Anthony used to look at me like that _ , and he swallows back a cry. 

“The humans have gathered their resources, their weapons and their defenders”, Ellaine says, eyes heavy with scorn as they drift over to Loki. She then turns back to Thanos, twirls a lock of hair around her finger, and bats her lashes. “Not that we have reason to be concerned. Even on their best day, the little shits are no match for you, Master.”

Thanos smiles down at her, taking a moment to cast Loki a sideways glance and raise his eyebrows, as if to say,  _ This is what you should be _ .

“I would recommend we try to avoid those ‘pals’ you’ve gotten acquainted with, though.” Ellaine narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “We wouldn’t want you switching teams on us again.”   
Loki goes to protest, to pledge his loyalty once more, but Thanos just raises a hand, and the two fall silent, sending each other smoldering, hate-filled looks. 

“Though I’m inclined to agree with you, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist we do just that.” Thanos rises from his seat and walks towards the window, smiling down at the small planet. “Pet, you are right in that they are no match for our strength, but humans are a rather stubborn species.” His smile goes tight, and he lifts his eyes to stare deeper into the glass of the window, into the reflection of Loki’s own eyes. “Pesky, little creatures. Not particularly troublesome but it’d be a mistake to underestimate them.”   
Loki’s fingers twitch, and the temperature of the room plummets. Ellaine shudders, casting a heated glare his way, but Loki has eyes only for Thanos. 

“You-you promised you’d leave earth alone”, Loki stammers out. He walks over to him, dropping his eyes to the floor before he can be reprimanded. “Those were the terms of our deal-”   
“Yes”, Thanos cuts in briskly. “The deal you’ve broken several times since we’ve made it.” Loki’s eyes go wide. “Come, now. Do you really believe me to be that witless, to think that this was your first time sneaking out?” Thanos pulls his arms behind his back and looks down at Loki, pure indifference evident in his eyes. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. “As I’m coming to understand, you were more than willing to disregard certain aspects of our deal. Should I not be granted the same justice*?”

Loki gulps. No. No. He can’t be serious. Something as simple, as minor, as his sneaking off warrants breaking the one thing holding agreement together? “It will not happen again”, he says once more, unable to keep his eyes downcast. He looks up and into Thanos’s eyes, unwavering. “Please. Forgive me.”   
Thanos purses his lips. “Haven’t I already been so forgiving?” 

“Yes and I am eternally grateful for your leniece but-”   
“But you request more.” Thanos shakes his head, tutting at him. Beside him, Ellaine shakes her head, her eyes practically glowing with hatred. “My Loki, you always were such a gluttonous, selfish thing.” He pats him on the head and smiles, inane fondness creeping into his eyes. “In a way, I suppose it’s why you always were my favorite.”

Loki restrains himself from turning to give Ellaine a gloating smile. Instead, he lets out a relieved sigh and drops to his knees. “Thank you”, he breathes out. “Thank you.”   
“Don’t thank me yet. You still have a job to do.”   
Loki frowns. He looks up from the floor, his eyes flicking between Thanos and Ellaine, whose smile is growing with each passing second. “A job”, he questions incredulously. Even at the height of their madness, Thanos never allowed Loki to take part in battle, always worried for his well being. Not even when he garnered his ire and was stripped of his rank was he ever required to fight. Though Loki would rather not bring harm to the place he once called home, he isn’t so much afraid to take them to battle such much as he is skeptical of just how involved he’ll be in said battle. 

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy to get back in my good graces, did you”, Thanos returns. “Fret not, my pet. You won’t be in any actual combat. Can’t risk bringing any harm to that pretty face, now can we?” He smiles at Ellaine. “Take him to earth. Carry out with protocol 4k-1. Make him watch but under no circumstances-”   
“Is he to be involved”, Ellaine recites, her voice just this side of disrespectful. Loki’s heart gets to beating rapidly, and he glances at Thanos.

But Thanos just smirks. And if Loki had any remaining doubts pertaining to Ellaine’s status, well, they’ve just been settled. 

. . . 

The night passes like a snail, creeping along sluggishly, like all the time and energy in the world has come to a halt. It doesn’t help that Loki’s been given the Hellpot Chamber, a room for newcomers, notorious for its inability to properly maintain temperatures. In all his time with Thanos, throughout all their spats and quarrels, Loki has never been sentenced to the Hellpot Chamber. As he pulls his feet free from their boots, he chastises himself for ever thinking they could truly go on as if the past two years hadn’t happened. 

“Please”, he whispers as he shrugs out of his pants and socks. “Please, Gods, just keep him safe.”

He doesn’t sleep that night. Instead, he thinks. He thinks of lots of things. He thinks of Bucky, compulsively organizing the canned foods in the main kitchen. He thinks of Frigga, taking his hands in her own to help him partake in her foresight. He thinks of Discovery Kingdom and how elated he’d been to see above the clouds.

But mostly, Loki thinks of Anthony. Not as he left him, heartbroken and angry, but as he’ll be after, when Loki’s faded to nothing more than a bad memory. Growing old with loved ones, helping to foster the minds of the youth, finding happiness. 

He thinks of Anthony. And he prays, he prays, that, somehow, he will survive this.

. . .

They dock in the morning. Loki hasn’t even finished washing his face when Ellaine stalks into the room, smiles, and orders him to open a portal to earth. Loki narrows his eyes, ready to remind her of her rank, only to flounder and trail off as he realizes she currently outranks him. 

“Fall in line, bitch”, she says chirpily as Loki joins her in the hall. “The others are waiting for us.” 

Loki just grits his teeth, pulling a weak but viable portal into existence. “Well, won’t they be happy to see us.”   
Ellaine rolls her eyes, snatching hold of his forearm to yank him through the portal. “Me, obviously? You.” Her lips pull back into a sneer. “Not so much.”   
For a moment, they linger between worlds. There’s an unhinged smile upon Ellaine’s face, and her hair, usually kept kempt and pampered*, is in a haphazard ponytail. Loki’s never seen her so disheveled, and maybe it’s this fact that leaves him heavy with pity. “For what it’s worth”, he says as he pulls them into Midgard. “I do hope that, someday, you break free of him and find yourself.”   
Ellaine opens her mouth to retort, then, seemingly having heard what he said, frowns, watching him confusedly. Their feet land upon hard ground, and Loki goes deadly still, petrified as he takes note of the skyline stretching before them.

Manhattan. 

“What are we doing here”, he asks lowly. 

Beside him, Ellaine blinks. She shuffles her feet and clears her throat. “Following orders”, she says, nodding to the Jabberwocky devouring an entire city block. “As we always should.” Loki goes to take a step forward, but Ellaine just grabs his arm, levelling him with a steely glare as she cooly states, “Stay in your place”. Loki’s face contorts with rage. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”   
“I’m only here because he promised Earth would be safe if I joined him.” He gestures wildly to the car pileups, the collapsing buildings, the shrieking cries rising up from the city. “How is this safe?”   
Ellaine shrugs. “If this Anthony is any near as impressive as you make him out to be, I’m sure he can handle a little tussle like this. Be thankful master hasn’t decimated this planet like he did the last one.”

Loki clenches his fists and turns from her to face the skyline once more. Amongst the towering skyscrapers, there’s Avengers Tower, proud and erect even as a chunk of its side gets knocked out of place. 

_ He will kill him _ , a voice says to him as a large mass of green flies free from the Tower.  _ If not to prove a point, then to keep you all pliant and submissive. But he will kill him.  _

“He promised”, Loki whispers. As he’s watching, an Iron Man suit flies up and around the Tower, a Jabberwocky trailing after it. Loki’s stomach lurches, and he steps forward, biting his lips as Ellaine’s hand goes back to his wrist. 

“Just leave him”, Ellaine says, sounding absolutely befuddled as to his disobedience. “He isn’t important. We’ll leave here, and master’s faith in you will be restored. Do you hear me?” She jerks him around so that he’s facing her and shakes her head at him. “Master will love you again. For fuck’s sake, you idiot, it’s all you ever wanted! Why are you fighting him?!”

The Jabberwocky goes flying past them, Anthony’s suit clenched between his jaws. Even with the faceplate, Loki knows its him. 

_ He’s gonna die. He’s gonna die, and you could have done something about it. _

“I-”   
Ellaine cocks her head to the side; gently, her fingers pull away from his wrist. “What the hell did they do to you?”

Lightning and streaks of red bleed across the sky. Loki gulps, wrenches his arm free of Ellaine’s grasp, and walks over to the edge of the building, watching as Anthony fires at the Jabberwocky and shoots out of the beast’s mouth just before they collide with the pavement. 

“I can’t believe you”, Ellaine’s saying. “All those years, dedicating yourself to him, to his mission, and you’re willing to throw it all away for a human.”   
Loki bites his lip. Anthony staggers to his feet and pulls back his faceplate. He’s turning to take off back towards the Tower, but his eyes catch sight of Loki, and he goes still, paralyzed as he’s caught in his gaze. 

“I’m sorry”, Loki says, and he isn’t sure who he’s apologizing to. 

In his stupor, Anthony doesn’t see the Jabberwocky barrelling his way. Not until its jaws snap around his waist and the beast tosses him into a building. 

Loki’s reaction is instinctive. He shoots three sharp daggers of ice into the Jabberwocky and pries a portal from the air, launching himself through it and into the middle of 200 Park Avenue. 

“Hang on”, Loki says, summoning a green energy field to lift him to where Anthony’s crashed into the building. He pries his body free from the structure, then leaps back into his portal, having just enough time to watch as the Jabberwocky slams back into the building. 

He’s not paying attention to where he opens his portal. He just picks a random place, far from Ellaine but close to Avenger Tower. Illogical, he realizes as he finds himself just meters away from Captain Rogers but, at the same time, logical. This is his home. These are his friends. It makes sense that he’d want to go there. 

“I’m sorry”, Loki murmurs again, turning to look down at Anthony. But Anthony’s eyes are closed. There’s a stream of blood trickling from his nose, and his suit is beeping incessantly. “Anthony”, Loki says, panic creeping into his voice. He lifts him up and gives him a light shake. “Anthony, come on.” 

Anthony doesn’t stir.

Tears begin to gather in his eyes. 

“Anthony, baby, come on.” Loki pulls him close to his chest, his voice cracking as disperses a wave of magic over Anthony, willing his knowledge of the medical arts to not fail him. “Anthony, get up. You’ve got to get up.” He looks up, and he finds Rogers, as well Thor, Wanda, and a man in a catsuit, watching him. “Don’t just stand there”, he cries out. “Do something! Call your emergency people!” Loki looks back down, cradling Anthony’s head in his arms. “Anthony”, he whimpers quietly. “Anthony, please. Tony. I-I can’t. Come on. We can’t do this without you. We need you.” His chest heaves; the blanket of green magic settled over Anthony dissolves into a puff of light, green feathers. Loki sniffles and tilts Anthony’s head up, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “I need you.”   
“Loki.”   
Loki sniffles. He looks up from where he’s buried his face in Anthony’s hair. Steve is crouched beside him, watching him sadly. 

“Let us help”, he tells him. 

Loki inhales shakily. He digs his chin into Anthony’s hair and stares at Steve, big, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“You can trust us”, Steve says amicably, giving him a sad smile. “We’ve got some of the best doctors in the world on call. But you’ve got to let us help.”

_ You did this. You did this to him.  _

Loki blinks frantically. Shakily, he rises to his feet. 

“He’ll be okay”, Steve says as he moves to take Anthony from him, but Loki won’t relinquish his hold. Steve purses his lips, but Natasha just comes up from behind him and gives him a look.

Loki doesn’t pay them much attention. He just presses his face to Anthony’s neck and grits his teeth, counting down the seconds until the helicarrier arrives. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's the finale! Can't wait to see y'all there!


	21. 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion, for real this time, and a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo, I've said this before, but this story was originally meant to be longer. This is where I decided to cut it off so please bear with me. Regardless, I had a lot of fun writing this. It's actually the longest fic I've ever written and thank you to every who's commented, left a kudo, bookmarked, or read, it all really meant a lot to me. Thanks for reading ❤❤❤

It was a test, Loki comes to realize later, balled up in his chair pulled up beside Anthony’s bed. Thanos always knew he would leave, just like he knew Loki was sneaking out, just like he knew Ellaine would be too conflicted to attempt to stop him.

He wrestles with this for a moment, dread setting in as he realizes that there will be punishment for his failure. Then he lets it go because, regardless of what Thanos has planned for him, Anthony has been unconscious for eleven hours and has yet to awaken.

_ I will make this right _ , Loki thinks as the door to Anthony’s room creaks open. In steps Thor, looking about as weary and ache-ridden as Loki feels. “Brother”, Loki greets tiredly.

Thor smiles and sits in the chair across Anthony. “Brother. How are you?” When all Loki does is cast his eyes to Anthony, understanding floods his eyes. “He will be fine. He’s sustained far worse.”

Loki just stares at Anthony. He stares at his pale skin and thinks of the delicate bones and muscles that lie beneath. He stares at the wrinkles defining his face, at the grey hairs that now outnumber the brown, of the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

“When I heard of your love for Jane”, he admits, “I thought you mad.”

Thor crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t look insulted, just...curious. “And now?”

“Now?” Loki sighs and leans over Anthony’s bed. He stares down at Anthony and smiles, sadly. “Now, I think you’re very brave.” He brushes the back of his hand over Anthony’s face and wills himself to breathe because his chest his growing tighter and Anthony’s eyes have still yet to open. “They’re such frail, fragile creatures.” He shakes his head, realizing, off-handedly, that he’s begun to cry. “Seems they’re only here for a moment, and the next, they’re gone.” He thinks of the first time he saw Anthony, streaking across the night sky like a raging tar. He thinks of him later, frown firmly in place as he slapped the handcuffs around his wrists. And he thinks of him later, much later, gauntly and sickly and just trying so hardly to keep them both alive when Loki had yet to do anything to deserve it.

“But for such a small existence, I’ve never met another person with as much life as he.”

Thor leaves him them, pulling him into a giant hug before closing the door behind him.

Loki settles back into his seat and pushes his hair out of his face. He’ll make it right. If it’s his last act, he will make this right.

“You look like shit.” 

His head darts up. Anthony’s eyes are still closed, and his body hasn’t moved. If not for the tight set of his lips, Loki would still presume him to be unconscious. “I feel like it, too”, he says. For hours, he’s been thinking of hundreds of ways to start this conversation. Now, it’s here, and it’s like they’ve all scrambled out of his ears. “How are you?”

Briefly, Anthony’s fingers twitch from where they’re laid out beside him. “Tired. Sore. But.” He makes a movement that could be a shrug, but, given his lack of energy, it could be anything. “I’ll live.”

Tension stretches taut between them. Loki wipes a hand over his face, inhales, and taps his foot against the ground. He’s alive.

By the Norns, he’s alive.

“Anthony-”   
“You left me.” He turns his head then, fully, to look at him. His eyes are cloudy, no doubt from the influence of whatever drugs they’ve pumped him full of. But there’s no confusion within them, just heat and hurt and ache.

And then...tears. “I missed you.”

Loki rises from his seat and crouches beside him. “Anthony”, he chokes out. “Anthony, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Anthony lifts a shaky hand, and Loki grabs hold of it like it’s a lifeline. “God, you just.” Anthony closes his eyes, but the tears leak through anyway. “You can’t just do that. You can’t just take off like that.”   
“I know, I know, I know. I just...I just thought…” Tears begin to stream down Loki’s face. “I wanted you to survive.”   
When Anthony opens his eyes, there is still anger within them, betrayal and frustration swimming alongside the tears that live there. “We are a team”, he whispers, but he’s loudder than he’s ever been. “If you’re thinking of jumping ship, you’ve gotta let me know. Okay? Baby, you gotta let me know.”

Loki nods, frantically. “I will. I promise, I will.”   
“Eternity”, Anthony says through gritted teeth. “We promised eternity. No backing out, remember?” Loki nods, once more, and, though Anthony doesn’t relax, he seems to take his word for it.

Anthony doesn’t let go of his hand. Not even when he falls back asleep.

Loki remains in that position, even as doctors rush in and out to check on him. When Anthony wakes up in the morning, he’s sitting right there beside him.

Outside, Thanos’s war still rages.

Inside, Loki promises Anthony a million times over that he will never leave him again.

. . .

His ship never fades from sight, but if Loki angles his back to the window, he can pretend he’s not there.

It’s a rather silly thing, especially now that they’re gearing up for battle, but it comforts him all the same. 

Anthony ducks out of the bathroom, his nanotech working to scramble over his body. He catches Loki looking and tosses a smile his way. “How do I look?”

He looks like he’s nowhere near ready for combat, regardless of what his doctors say. He still winces when he turns to quickly, and his bruises have yet to fade.

But Loki knows him; he’d rather die than set this one out. “You look good.” He wills his magic out of hiding and wraps it around them both, pulling Anthony close enough to hug. “You look good.”

They remain that way for a while. When they eventually pull away, Loki can see it in Anthony’s eyes, can see the doubt, the insecurity.

He left to save him. But he might have just made things worse.

Loki kisses him gently and keeps their fingers tangled together when he teleports them into the helicarrier.

“No checking out”, Anthony whispers as they settle into their seats. 

Loki nods. “No checking out.”

He’s never had this before. He’s never had someone that makes him want to sacrifice his everything for their well-being. He isn’t sure of the right steps, of the right moves, but he’ll learn them all just to keep Anthony happy.

And if Anthony is happy with him by his side, then he’ll stay there. For however long he wants him. 

Heat envelops his palm, and Loki knows Anthony is right there with him, afraid and uncertain. He doesn’t know what the future holds, but he will fight to ensure that Anthony is a part of it.

And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t convince Anthony of it as well.

Loki squeezes Anthony’s hand and freezes it just enough that his fire douses, to the point where equilibrium exists between them. Anthony squeezes back, commencing a brief battle of fire and ice, before rising and joining Steve at the center of the ship to instruct all Avengers present and accounted for.

He watches him. Watches this man, this strong, kind, gentle man he’s grown to love. It used to scare Loki, just how much he cared for Anthony. Now, he fears living in a world where he doesn’t exist.

Life’s funny that way.

“All right, Avengers”, Anthony starts, eyes flicking to Loki’s before turning to address the room once more. “Cap and I have got a few things to say…”

He’ll kill Thanos. It’s not a matter of “if”. If he gets the opportunity, he will kill him. Anything to keep Anthony safe, anything to ensure he has a future and a  _ long _ future at that. 

Two years, he spent hiding, cowering from Thanos. It’s about time he’s done something about that.

Loki looks up from his hands and meets Anthony’s eye.  _ I’m right here _ , he thinks. 

_ And I’m not going anywhere. _


End file.
